BT  1101  .W18  1923 
Ward,  John  William  George, 
1879- 

Problems  that  perplex 

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PROBLEMS 
THAT  PERPLEX 


BY 

REV.  J.  W.  G.  WARD 


MINISTER  OF  NEW  COURT  CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH 
TOLLINGTON  PARK,  LONDON 


Author  of  ^'Parables  for  Little  People^  "Messages  from 

Master  Minds!"  etc. 


NEW 


YORK 


GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1923, 

BY  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


PROBLEMS  THAT  PERPLEX.  I 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


TO 

MY  WIFE 

COMRADE  IN  DIFFICULTY 
COMFORT  IN  DISTRESS 
COUNSELLOR  IN  ADVERSITY 


PREFACE 


Many  conversations  with  men  of  all  shades  of 
belief  and  unbelief  have  led  one  to  the  conviction 
that  a  spirit  of  earnest  enquiry  about  religious 
questions  is  abroad.  Far  from  being  indifferent  to 
the  claims  of  Christianity,  there  are  people  who, 
pondering  some  of  these  problems  that  perplex,  are 
truly  anxious  to  find  the  way  of  life  and  peace.  And 
while  it  is  impossible  within  the  compass  of  this 
volume  to  deal  adequately  with  every  phase  of  doubt, 
one  sends  this  book  forth  with  the  earnest  hope  that 
it  may,  in  spite  of  its  imperfections,  be  a  finger-post 
by  which  the  wayfaring  man  may  be  directed  on  his 
travels  in  search  of  truth. 

One  has  purposely  eliminated  technical  terms  as 
far  as  possible,  that,  written  in  the  language  of  the 
people,  it  may  be  of  service  to  them  in  their  quest 
of  the  Eternal. 


Ne^w  Court  Church, 
Tollington  Park,  London 


J.  W.  G.  Ward. 


i 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I  The  Problem  of  Pain . 13 

II  The  Problem  of  Prayer . 28 

III  The  Problem  of  Providence  ....  44 

IV  The  Problem  of  Divine  Indifference  .  61 

V  The  Problem  of  the  Prosperity  of  the 

Wicked . 79 

VI  The  Problem  of  Believing  ....  95 

VII  The  Problem  of  the  Bible  .  .  .  .  113 

VIII  The  Problem  of  Miracles  ....  132 

IX  The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  .  .  150 

X  The  Problem  of  Personality  .  .  .  175 

XI  The  Problem  of  Immortality  .  .  .  194 


PROBLEMS  THAT  PERPLEX 


** Truly,  a  thinking  man  is  the  worst  enemy 
the  Prince  of  Darkness  can  have.” — Carlyle 


PROBLEMS  THAT  PERPLEX 


I 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  PAIN 

'T^HE  sword  hung  over  the  unhappy  head  of 
Damocles  as  he  sat  at  the  king’s  table.  And 
though  every  conceivable  dainty  was  set  before  him 
on  platters  of  gold,  he  had  no  appetite  for  the  feast 
nor  interest  in  the  gay  throng  about  him.  He  could 
not  change  his  place,  nor  could  he  banish  the  thought 
of  that  weapon,  suspended  by  a  single  hair.  At  any 
moment,  the  glittering  blade  might  crash  through  his 
skull,  and  dread  filled  his  soul. 

In  one  way,  we  are  in  a  similar  situation.  No 
matter  how  we  try,  we  cannot  escape  for  long  from 
the  thought  that  over  our  heads  hang,  like  a  sword 
of  destiny,  pain  and  its  dark  problems.  Man’s  mind 
in  every  age  has  pondered  the  mystery  of  suffering. 
And  because  it  is  a  constantly  recurring  factor  in 
human  life,  we  too  have  asked  many  a  time.  Why 
should  agony  of  mind  and  body  seem  to  be  the 
inevitable  accompaniment  of  human  life?  From 
the  lips  of  psalmists,  prophets,  and  seers,  the  ques¬ 
tion  has  been  wrung  as  they  have  looked  on  the 
suffering  of  the  race,  and  often  in  these  days,  with 
voices  choked  by  emotion,  with  hearts  torn  by 
anguish,  the  question  is  repeated.  It  is  such  a  vital 

13 


14  Problems  that  Perplex 

matter  that,  to  some,  faith  seems  well-nigh  impos¬ 
sible.  This  may  be  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds, 
as  the  philosopher  says,  but  frankly  many  of  us 
cannot  believe  it  unless  more  than  a  glib  statement 
is  given  to  us  as  the  basis  for  such  a  belief.  Faith 
is  at  stake  I 

Briefly  put,  the  matter  seems  to  resolve  itself  into 
this:  We  are  assured  that  the  world  is  ruled  by  a 
Supreme  Being  who  is  wise,  powerful  and  good,  and 
that  we,  His  offspring,  are  the  objects  of  His  loving 
care.  That  is  the  Christian  position.  But  there  is 
another  side  of  the  matter  to  which  we  cannot  be 
blind.  The  world  is  full  of  suffering.  Some  of  it  we 
can  explain;  it  is  the  result  of  natural  causes.  But 
for  much  there  is  no  apparent  explanation,  and  it 
looks  as  though  we  were  driven  to  a  position  like 
this:  Either  God  can  prevent  pain  and  does  not — 
therefore  He  is  not  love ;  or  God  cannot  prevent  it 
— therefore  He  is  not  all-powerful. 

But  is  that  the  only  way  in  which  the  problem  can 
be  expressed?  Assuredly  not.  We  can  as  reason¬ 
ably  say:  God  is  all-powerful;  God  is  all-loving.  If, 
therefore,  He  permits  pain  there  must  be  some 
result  He  has  in  view  that  cannot  be  obtained  in  any 
other  way.  There  is  a  significance  in  all  man’s 
'  sufferings,  whether  they  be  caused  directly  or  indi¬ 
rectly.  This  is  the  point  we  shall  endeavour  to 
prove. 


All  Pain  is  not  Punishment 

This  is  a  fact  that  Jesus  plainly  teaches,  though, 
of  course,  some  pain  can  be  traced  to  wrongdoing 
and  is,  in  a  measure,  retributive.  Let  us  deal  with 


/ 


The  Problem  of  Pain  15 

this  aspect  of  the  matter  first.  Sin  causes  suffering 
to  the  delinquent,  and  very  often  the  penalty  is  paid 
by  the  physical  side  of  man.  It  is  perfectly  true  that 
some  evil  acts  affect  the  body  more  than  others,  but 
even  non-bodily  sins,  like  greed,  envy,  ill-temper  and 
jealousy,  though  primarily  affecting  the  mind,  may 
react  upon  the  body  and  not  only  induce  nervous 
ailments,  but  actually  cause  a  predisposition  to  other 
ills.  While  the  drunkard  and  the  roue  reap  the 
harvest  they  have  sown,  so  do  those  who  are  guilty 
of  more  respectable  sins.  Thus  it  is  a  well-grounded 
fact  that  some  pain  is  punishment  for  the  breach  of 
physical  and  moral  laws. 

It  is  quite  evident  that  this  was  the  view  of 
Christ’s  disciples  when  they  put  that  question  to  Him 
about  the  man  born  blind.  “Master,  who  did  sin, 
this  man  or  his  parents,  that  he  was  born  blind?” 
It  strikes  us  at  once  that  unless  we  admit  the  possi¬ 
bility  of  pre-existence  or  transmigration  of  souls,  this 
man  could  not  have  sinned  before  his  birth,  and 
whatever  the  theory  held  by  the  disciples,  Jesus  ruled 
it  out  by  His  reply.  In  the  case  of  this  man,  at  any 
rate,  pain  was  not  punishment,  for  he  was  not  guilty  I 
Then  that  implies  that  while  some  pain  may  be  the 
direct  result  of  sin,  and  therefore  may  be  called 
punishment  though  it  is  not  inflicted  by  special  man¬ 
date,  some  pain  may  be  suffered  though  the  indi¬ 
vidual  is  innocent  of  any  offence,  moral  or  spiritual. 

Yet  undoubtedly  some  suffering  is  due  to  heredity. 
Though  in  this  case  it  did  not  apply,  for  Jesus  denied 
that  either  this  man  or  his  parents  were  guilty  of  sin, 
that  does  not  make  the  law  of  heredity  inoperative. 
We  know  in  only  too  many  cases  that  the  sins  of  the 
fathers  are  visited  on  the  children,  and  that  many  a 


l6  Problems  that  Perplex 

pang  that  tortures  the  human  frame,  and  baffles 
medical  skill,  is  but  the  fruit  resulting  from  a  sowing 
by  other  hands  long  ago.  This  gives  rise  to  much 
pessimism  and  perplexity.  Some  can  see  no  hope 
for  the  race  when  the  innocent  thus  suffer  for  the 
guilty,  and  when  there  is  no  apparent  intervention  on 
the  part  of  God  to  alleviate  the  ills  that  men  have 
to  endure  through  no  fault  of  their  own.  Is  there, 
they  ask,  any  benevolent  Deity  behind  it  all,  or  only 
blind  Fate?  The  gibes  of  the  unjust,  the  scorn  of 
the  sceptic  as  he  looks  at  the  established  order  might 
be  passed  without  much  heed,  but  we  dare  not  treat 
every  objection  in  that  way.  When  earnest  and 
devout  souls,  brooding  over  earth’s  misery  and  mys¬ 
tery,  lay  down  the  tangled  skein  they  have  wearily 
tried  to  unravel,  we  must  reason  the  matter  out. 

When  one  sees  the  weak  that  might  have  been 
strong  but  for  another’s  sin,  when  torture  and 
deprivation  are  the  portion  of  some  children  instead 
of  merry  laughter  and  happy  play,  it  makes  one  think 
seriously  about  this  law  of  heredity  and  its  terrible 
entail.  Our  life-work  may  bring  us  in  contact  with 
many  a  gruesome  fact.  One  has  worked  in  the 
hospitals  of  France  and  of  Britain,  and  has  seen 
some  of  the  horrible  fiendishness  of  war.  But  one 
was  never  more  appalled  by  the  sight  of  suffering 
than  when  one  stood  by  the  cot  of  a*little  child,  dying 
of  a  loathsome  disease,  its  frail  body  racked  with 
pain.  The  cause  was  its  father’s  sinful  ways.  And 
have  we  not  all  come  across  cases  of  the  mentally 
deficient,  the  crippled  and  the  blind,  whose  suffering 
has  been  real  enough,  but  whose  parents  alone  had 
sinned?  Even  where  there  is  no  bodily  pain,  there 


The  Problem  of  Pain  17 

is  the  sorrow  and  the  shame  that  another’s  sin  may 
bring  with  it. 

In  common  fairness,  however,  we  must  admit  that 
there  is  the  other  side  to  heredity.  God  means  it 
to  conserve  the  good  and  to  pass  on  a  heritage  of 
health  and  happiness  that  could  be  obtained  in  no 
other  way.  How  many  blessings  we  now  enjoy  have 
come  to  us  along  the  rails  laid  down  by  heredity? 
Some  of  us  cannot  but  thank  God  for  the  fathers 
and  mothers  who  made  the  home  into  which  we  were 
born,  and  who  implanted  in  our  hearts  a  love  of 
things  beautiful,  noble  and  pure.  If  man  by  his 
folly  wilfully  breaks  a  law  thus  beneficent  in  its 
operation,  the  responsibility  is  not  God’s,  neither  is 
He  proved  to  be  unmindful. 

The  greatest  difficulty,  however,  that  the  problem 
of  pain  presents  is  that  of  untraced  pain,  illustrated 
in  the  case  of  the  man  to  whom  Christ’s  attention 
was  called.  If  he  had  not  sinned,  nor  his  parents, 
then  who  had?  Christ  does  not  supply  an  easy 
answer  to  the  question  put  to  Him.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  disciples  were  aware  that  if  their  two  pos¬ 
sible  explanations  were  incorrect,  the  solution  was 
beyond  them.  Yet  note  the  position  Christ  adopts. 
He  admits  that  sin  causes  suffering  to  the  wrong¬ 
doer,  and  that  sin  causes  suffering  to  others  who  may 
be  innocent.  But  there  is  another  phase  of  suffering 
to  which  He  assigns  no  cause;  it  is  pain  that  God 
^permits,  and  which  man  can  explain  only  in  part. 
There  may  be  causes,  but  they  are  so  far  back  that 
man  cannot  lay  his  hand  on  them;  and  there  are 
accidents  that  man  may  have  been  able  to  foresee, 
but  which  he  has  been  unable  wholly  to  avert.  We 
venture  to  say  that  it  is  mainly  the  accidental  and 


i8  Problems  that  Perplex 

the  mexpHcable  that  fall  Into  this  third  category  that 
for  convenience  we  may  term  things  which  God 
permits. 

We  shall  be  drawn  aside  from  the  main  issue  if 
we  include  in  this  term  all  the  supposed  suffering 
in  the  natural  world,  for,  though  it  is  real  enough 
to  us,  it  certainly  is  not  as  painful  as  we  suppose. 
There  is  a  vast  difference  between  our  capacity  for 
feeling  pain,  and  that  of  the  lower  orders  of  life. 
The  beast  and  the  insect  have  not  the  highly  sensi¬ 
tive  nervous  system  we  possess,  and,  as  has  been 
pointed  out  by  a  gifted  apologist,  when  the  ration¬ 
alist  raves  about  the  poor  beetle  writhing  in  the  dust, 
its  back  broken  by  the  heel  of  a  passer-by,  happily 
for  the  beetle,  though  unhappily  for  the  argument, 
the  beetle  has  no  backbone  to  break!  We  read  into 
•  the  death  of  the  lower  creatures  the  pain  that  our 
sensitive  minds  imagine.  “We  conclude,”  says  the 
authoritative  voice  of  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  “that 
the  popular  idea  of  the  struggle  for  existence  entail¬ 
ing  misery  and  pain  on  the  animal  world,  is  the  very 
reverse  of  the  truth.  What  it  really  brings  about 
is  the  maximum  of  life  and  of  the  enjoyment  of  life, 
with  the  minimum  of  suffering  and  pain.” 

Turning  then  to  the  problem  of  untraced  pain,  we 
find  that  there  is  only  one  key  that  will  unlock  the 
doors  of  mystery.  It  is  the  key  shaped  by  Christ. 
If  pain  is  not  wholly  retributive,  there  must  be  some 
other  explanation :  it  is  that  God  uses  this  method  to 
reach  some  cherished  end  for  His  children.  He  may 
not  be  able  to  take  us  into  His  confidence  about  it 
all,  simply  because  we  are  incapable  of  full  compre¬ 
hension.  But  His  character,  revealed  in  a  thousand 
ways  as  merciful  and  gracious,  ought  to  be  our 


The  Problem  of  Pain  19 

guarantee  of  the  good.  Perhaps  God  expects  of  us 
what  we  expect  of  our  children :  a  love  that  does  not 
depend  on  complete  understanding  of  all  we  do,  but 
that  trusts  where  it  cannot  trace. 

Imagine  a  father  taking  his  child  of  six  into  his 
factory.  There  is  machinery  of  the  most  compli¬ 
cated  kind  that  even  to  the  uninitiated  adult  seems 
a  mass  of  whirling  wheels,  dealing  with  the  raw 
material.  They  follow  the  process  from  one  depart¬ 
ment  to  another,  till  at  last  the  finished  article  is 
reached.  But  has  the  little  mind  been  able  to  under¬ 
stand  it  all?  Is  it  necessary  that  it  should  do  so. 
before  it  can  believe  in  the  wisdom  and  love  of  the 
father?  And  yet  her  happiness  and  comfort  are 
bound  up  with  the  goods  produced  in  that  factory, 
for  by  means  of  them  food  and  raiment  are  hers. 
The  analogy  does  not  carry  us  all  the  way,  but, 
compared  with  the  Infinite,  our  minds  are  just  as 
limited  as  that  of  the  child.  Then  if  her  father 
expects  her  trust,  ought  God  to  expect  less? 

All  Pain  is  not  Purposeless 

Arguing  from  a  child-like  trust  based  not  on  per¬ 
fect  knowledge  of  the  Father’s  doings  but  on  per¬ 
sonal  knowledge  of  Him,  we  can  advance.  Assume 
for  the  moment  that  He  is  the  all-loving,  and  we 
'say  at  once,  then  He  must  be  consistent  with  His 
character.  He  who  is  the  source  of  wisdom  will 
always  choose  the  best  for  His  children,  and  one 
day  His  honour  will  be  vindicated,  even  at  the  bar 
of  His  creatures.  Yet  this  is  no  mere  assumption; 
we  have  a  record  of  God’s  ways  in  the  world,  and 
the  testimony  of  the  ages  is  that  “He  doeth  all  things 


20  Problems  that  Perplex 

well.”  Moreover,  we  have  the  witness  of  Christ 
himself  who,  because  He  was  one  with  God,  revealed 
the  heart  of  the  Eternal  as  no  other  could.  One  of 
the  most  striking  comparisons  that  our  Lord  made 
was  between  the  best  human  father  that  man  ever 
knew  and  the  exceeding  goodness  and  generosity  of 
the  Father  in  heaven. 

Now  Jesus  did  not  evade  the  problem  of  pain: 
He  looked  it  squarely  in  the  face  without  disclaiming 
the  divine  responsibility  for  it.  There  was  pain 
caused  by  sin;  that  was  man’s  own  doing,  and  as  he 
sowed  he  must  reap.  There  was  pain  caused  by  the 
sin  of  others;  and  as  we  are  bound  up  In  one  bundle 
of  life,  it  must  needs  be  that  the  innocent  are  com¬ 
pelled  to  share  the  shame  and  sorrow  that  sin  brings. 
But  this  other  fact  of  permitted  pain — what  is  its 
purpose,  and  why  need  it  be?  Let  us  reiterate  the 
statement  that  retribution  is  not  the  key  to  it.  In 
one  of  Raemaeker’s  cartoons,  called  “The  triumph 
of  the  Zeppelin,”  there  >  a  hospital  bed,  beside 
which  sits  a  broken-heart^  man.  His  grief  is  seen 
in  every  line  of  the  half  idden  face,  for  the  still 
form  on  the  bed  is  his  w.  e.  But  our  eyes  turn  to 
the  child  standing  there,  quite  unable  to  take  in  all 
this  blow  means  to  her.  She  is  wrestling  with  this 
problem  that  we  are  considering,  for  she  says,  “But 
mother  had  done  nothing  wrong,  had  she.  Daddy?” 

Then  perhaps  good  can  come  out  of  evil?  The 
truth  is,  pain  and  suffering  may  be  God’s  angelic 
ministrants,  safeguarding  the  good  of  mankind. 
For  one  thing,  pain  is  a  sentinel,  warning  the  life  of 
attacks  that  are  being  made  on  it.  It  is  a  danger 
signal  which  tells  the  passenger  that  some  mishap 
has  occurred,  as  though  some  invisible  hand  pulled 


21 


The  Problem  of  Pain 

the  communication  cord  bringing  the  train  to  a 
standstill.  Or,  to  put  it  another  way,  it  is  a  mes¬ 
senger  warning  man  that  he  has  knowingly  or  un¬ 
wittingly  transgressed  the  laws  of  life,  and  thus 
seeking  to  deter  him  from  pursuing  a  course  that 
may  prove  fatal.  We  are  not  diminishing  the  fact 
of  pain  when  we  say  that  were  there  no  effects  visible 
to  the  eyes  and  patent  even  to  the  passer-by,  there 
might  be  less  heed  taken  of  the  evils  that  prevail  in 
the  world.  Our  attention  is  drawn  to  the  needs  of 
the  race  when  we  see  “man’§^  inhumanity  to  man” 
leaving  such  dire  happenings  in  its  wake,  and  we  ask, 
Who  would  champion  the  cause  of  the  sweated  hire¬ 
ling,  the  ill-housed  and  the  unfortunate,  did  we  not 
actually  see  the  awful  effects  that  greed  and  oppres¬ 
sion  produce?  So  we  may  rightly  claim  that  pain 
is  one  of  the  most  reliable  safeguards  that  Provi¬ 
dence  ever  devised.  For  when  the  voice  of  con¬ 
science  is  stifled  or  the  q^lls  of  an  outraged  body 
are  unheeded,  the  voice-;  if  pain  speaks  with  such 
force  that  man  must  lists^. 

Again,  suffering  is  m  jchool  in  which  many  a 
precious  lesson  is  learned^;  jlt  makes  a  man  think,  and 
that  is  no  easy  task.  Sometimes  it  shows  him  that  he 
has  much  to  learn.  There  was  a  time  not  very  remote 
when  France  was  happy  and  prosperous.  She  loved 
pleasure.  She  delighted  in  things  that  appealed  to 
the  senses,  so  that  some  affirmed  with  vehemence 
that  France  had  lost  her  soul.  But  then  came  a 
time  of  tremendous  trial  and  we  who  have  seen  her 
churches  in  peace  time  but  sparsely  filled  with  women 
and  children,  have  also  seen  the  nation  on  its  knees, 
when  the  thunders  of  war  rolled  overhead,  suppli¬ 
cating  the  Divine  aid  as  it  knelt  in  the  churches  or 


22  Problems  that  Perplex 

as,  with  moving  yet  silent  lips,  it  bowed  by  wayside 
shrines.  France  found  her  soul;  she  learned  that 
she  cannot  do  without  God,  but  the  teacher  was 
sombre-apparelled  pain. 

We  have  all  known  the  successful  man  of  the 
world,  at  whose  touch  everything,  Midas-like,  turned 
to  gold.  His  plans  prospered.  He  had  more  than 
heart  could  wish.  But  he  had  no  thought  for  others 
except  how  he  might  use  them,  and  no  thought  for 
anything  higher  than  himself.  He  was  a  veritable 
man  with  the  rake !  But  pain  entered  his  life,  un¬ 
bidden  and  unwelcome,  and  for  once  helpless  and 
beaten,  the  successful  man  lay  in  a  darkened  room, 
feeling  that  all  the  fiends  of  the  Inquisition  were 
at  work  upon  his  aching  limbs.  In  that  dark  room 
he  saw  what  he  had  never  been  able  to  see  in  the 
sunlight  of  success.  For  just  as  one  is  best  able  to 
look  at  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  through  a  piece  of 
smoked  glass,  so  through  the  lens  of  pain  life  is  most 
clearly  seen.  A  sure  sense  of  the  Unseen  has  stirred 
in  his  soul,  and  this  man  who,  a  week  before,  would 
probably  have  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  anything  beyond 
this  life,  cannot  jest  when  the  dread  ferryman  is 
waiting  at  his  door,  ready  to  carry  him  across  the 
dark  river  of  death.  While  the  opposite  bank  of 
that  river,  called  the  Beyond,  had  suddenly  become 
only  too  real.  He  has  begun  to  think:  and  his  re¬ 
lentless  tutor  is  pain. 

It  may  be  that  we  have  had  to  look  on  pain  in  the 
life  of  some  dear  one — a  beloved  wife  or  child,  and 
as  we  tip-toed  into  the  room  and  saw  the  dear  face 
distorted  with  suffering,  or  deep-graven  with  lines  of 
agony,  we  learned  our  utter  helplessness  and  our 
need  of  God.  Then  all  our  theories  about  the  impo- 


The  Problem  of  Pain  23 

tence  of  prayer  fled,  and  we  sank  to  our  knees  with 
bursting  heart  and  with  longings  that  none  but  the 
Eternal  could  satisfy.  We  had  come  to  a  realisation 
of  God’s  nearness  which  had  never  been  known  till 
that  hour.  So  have  men  in  every  walk  of  life,  in 
every  need  born  of  suffering,  stretched  forth  their 
hands  in  the  darkness  and  found  their  Father  God. 
Driven  back  upon  His  help,  forced  by  the  load  of 
life’s  griefs  to  seek  His  strength,  taught  something 
of  His  glorious  willingness  to  help — these  have  been 
some  of  the  advantages  that  pain  has  brought. 

Suffering  of  one  kind  or  another  is  the  common 
lot.  The  thing  we  want  to  know  is  how  we  can 
sunder  the  pearl  from  the  shell,  and  separate  the 
diamond  from  the  stones  and  dirt.  Pain  is  profitless, 
only  embittering  and  hardening  the  heart,  unless  it  be 
met  in  the  right  way.  In  Sir  Walter  Scott’s  journal 
we  read  the  story  of  his  misfortunes  and  his  suffer¬ 
ings  borne  with  sublime  fortitude  and  unfailing 
faith.  How  was  it  done?  Another  of  fortune’s 
favourites  was  Sir  Henry  Irving.  For  twenty-five 
years  he  held  the  premier  place  in  his  art.  He  was 
famous.  He  was  feted.  Learned  societies  vied  with 
one  another  in  doing  him  honour.  The  tide  of 
prosperity  flowed  high.  But  the  ebb  set  in.  Blow 
after  blow  fell,  not  while  he  was  still  young  and 
able  to  sustain  the  shock,  but  when  the  weight  of 
years  was  bowing  the  upright  frame  with  its  load. 
A  great  fire  destroyed  forty-four  productions,  and 
of  the  £30,000  involved,  only  one-fifth  was  insured. 
Shortly  afterwards,  he  met  with  an  accident  to  his 
knee,  so  that  for  months  he  was  hors-de-comhat. 
Then  ill-health  and  an  affection  of  the  throat,  which 
made  life  a  misery  and  work  an  intolerable  burden. 


24  Problems  that  Perplex 

added  to  his  cares.  Did  he  quail  before  these  bat¬ 
talions  of  trouble?  No!  his  heart  was  still  staunch 
and  true  to  the  end.  He  had  learned  where  strength 
can  be  found. 

What  is  true  of  these  two  distinguished  men  may 
be  true  of  every  one  of  us  if  we  approach  suffering 
from  the  right  standpoint. 

All  Pain  is  Full  of  Gracious  Possibilities 

'  Its  chief  work  is  to  sweeten  and  refine  the  human 
soul.  Were  it  not  for  the  presence  of  pain  in  the 
world,  we  might  become  a  race  of  easy-going,  ease- 
loving  egoists,  caring  nothing  for  the  good  of  man¬ 
kind  in  general,  and  incapable  of  sympathy  and  un¬ 
selfish  service.  Pain  makes  such  a  course  impossible 
for  most  of  us.  Like  the  angel  who  came  to  Isaiah 
„in  his  vision,  cleansing  his  lips  with  the  live  coal  from 
the  altar,  the  angel  of  pain  comes  to  cleanse  and 
refine  the  life  of  mankind.  What  is  more,  it  reveals 
latent  possibilities  of  genuine  greatness.  Suffering 
discovers  the  sublime  in  the  soul. 

In  the  quiet  bosom  of  the  hills  lies  a  bed  of  mar¬ 
ble.  One  day,  long  ago  now,  workmen  appeared 
with  strange  implements  and  began  their  task. 
With  laborious  effort  they  drilled  a  hole  in  the  hill¬ 
side.  Then  they  inserted  a  charge.  Soon,  as  though 
the  whole  earth  were  dissolving  with  fervent  heat 
and  the  mighty  thunders  of  impending  doom  were 
rumbling  with  wrath,  the  bosom  of  the  hills  was 
rent  in  twain.  Huge  blocks  of  marble  were  torn 
from  their  resting-place,  and  the  scene  was  one  of 
desolation.  But  then  the  workmen  who  had  done 
the  deed  returned  and  with  swinging  blows  the  blocks 
of  marble  were  rough-hewn  and  transported. 


The  Froblem  of  Pain  25 

One  is  taken  to  the  studio  of  a  sculptor.  And 
all-through  which  that  miserable  marble  passed  is 
as  nothing  to  what  awaits  it  now.  Piece  after  piece 
is  cut  away.  The  cleaving  strokes  of  the  chisel  are 
daily  making  that  block  less  in  bulk,  and  one  might 
almost  expect  the  soul  of  the  marble  to  cry  out  in 
anger  at  the  appalling  waste  of  its  substance,  and 
bid  its  tormentor  stay  his  hand.  But  he  works 
away.  And  lo  !  after  many  days,  the  meaning  of  the 
mystery  is  plain.  Imprisoned  in  the  shapeless  stone 
was'  an  angel  that  only  the  eye  of  genius  could  see. 
His  work  was  to  liberate  it  from  its  chill  dungeon. 
There,  the  rough  exterior  and  the  weather-stains 
gone,  we  look  on  a  radiant  figure,  spotless,  sym¬ 
metrical  and  sublime,  with  wings  poised  for  flight. 
And  who  shall  say  that  all  has  not  been  worth  while? 

A  musician  takes  a  new  string  from  its  idle  coil, 
and  fitting  it  to  his  violin,  he  stretches  it  taut.  He 
strikes  a  chord  on  the  piano,  and  the  string — moan¬ 
ing  with  pain  as  his  finger  touches  it — is  tightened 
till  it  seems  that  breaking-point  must  soon  be  reached. 
What!  still  tighter?  Yea,  till  the  taut  string  an¬ 
swers  full  and  clear  to  the  tone  of  the  piano.  Then 
the  master  takes  his  bow  and  sweeps  from  those 
strings  a  shower  of  melody  as  the  April  winds  carry 
the  pearl-drops  from  the  pendant  boughs.  A  string 
without  tension  is  a  string  without  soul  1 

We  need  not  attempt  to  explain  it.  But  it  is  a 
fact  to  gladden  the  heart  that  as  the  man  born  blind 
received  his  sight  at  Christ’s  hands,  so  the  soul  that 
suffers  begins  to  see.  Carlyle  has  pointed  out  that 
had  not  Dante  suffered  as  he  did  the  world  would 
have  been  the  poorer.  His  land  might  have  had  an¬ 
other  prosperous  citizen,  but  the  race  would  have 


26  Problems  that  Perplex 

one  sublime  singer  less.  Denied  the  woman  he  loved, 
driven  forth  to  exile,  a  sentence  of  death  issued 
against  him  should  he  return,  Dante  had  two  courses 
open  to  him :  he  could  have  dropped  down  the  slip¬ 
pery  slopes  of  despair,  or  he  could  climb  the  arduous 
heights  of  vision  and  poetry.  He  chose  the  latter, 
and  through  his  agony  of  soul  the  centuries  have  be¬ 
come  vocal  with  his  splendid  genius.  Pain  was  the 
finger-post  to  the  peak. 

Tennyson’s  grief  for  his  dead  friend,  Arthur 
Henry  Hallam,  gave  birth  to  his  matchless  “In 
Memoriam.”  And  all  the  world  knows  that  from 
the  invalid  couch  of  Catherine  Booth  flowed  forth 
the  sympathy  for  the  fallen  and  outcast  which  made 
the  Salvation  Army  such  a  power  for  good. 

Paderewski  was  always  a  great  musician.  But  it 
was  only  when  he  mourned  the  loss  of  his  wife  that 
he  turned  to  his  instrument  as  the  antidote  for  his 
passionate  sorrow,  and  there  he  found  too  an  outlet 
for  his  soul.  He  played  first  to  get  relief.  Then  he 
played  to  give  expression  to  the  highest  aspirations 
of  his  life.  Pain  and  passion  were  united  in  holy 
wedlock,  and  of  that  union  his  greatest  art  was  born. 
Suffering  released  the  imprisoned  soul. 

If  we  could  only  look  at  God’s  ways  as  we  ought, 
we  would  see  in  pain  not  a  fiend  to  torture,  but  an 
angel  to  guide  us  to  nobler  things.  We  would  not 
become  embittered  by  our  experiences,  but  be  en¬ 
nobled  by  them.  The  sweetest  souls  that  grace  the 
earth  and  make  it  fragrant  are  ofttimes  those  who 
have  suffered  most.  Impoverished  in  some  ways, 
but  they  have  been  enriched  in  others.  They  may 
have  lost  much,  but  they  have  gained  more.  Over 
and  over  again,  eyes  that  might  have  become  dim 


The  Froblem  of  Pain  27 

through  living  in  the  garish  light  of  pleasure  have 
been  gifted  with  power  to  discern  the  hidden  glories 
of  life  through  the  cleansing  tear-drops. 

Again,  new  springs  of  sympathy  are  thus  discov¬ 
ered  for  the  needy  souls  of  men.  The  hard  rock 
of  selfishness  is  smitten  by  the  hand  of  pain,  and 
waters  of  succour  gush  out.  “In  the  time  of  Christ,” 
as  Dr.  Schanz  remarks,  “all  sympathy  was  killed  by 
the  theory  that  all  suffering  was  the  penalty  of 
specific  sin,  a  theory  which  fostered  a  merciless  type 
of  righteousness.”  But  the  Son  of  Man,  who  though 
He  was  a  son,  yet  learned  obedience  through  the 
things  that  He  suffered,  changed  all  that.  He  made 
pain  a  way  by  which  not  only  the  sufferer  might  be 
ennobled  and  blessed,  but  also  the  needs  of  others 
might  be  met.  As  Tolstoy  says,  “It  is  by  those  who 
have  suffered,  not  by  those  who  have  inflicted  suf¬ 
fering,  that  the  world  has  been  advanced.” 

We  need  to  face  the  problem  of  pain  anew  and 
from  a  right  attitude  to  the  dispensations  of  Provi¬ 
dence,  to  gain  power  to  feel  for  the  forlorn  and  the 
friendless,  the  suffering  and  the  submerged.  Callous 
commercialism,  or  senseless  chatter  about  the  super¬ 
man  will  not  help  the  world.  But  the  heart  at  leisure 
from  itself,  having  learned  the  lessons  that  pain 
teaches,  can  and  will.  It  has  not  shrunk  from  its 
instructor  because  it  is  shrouded  in  a  sombre  robe. 
Nay,  it  has  pulled  that  garment  aside  and,  looking 
upon  the  face  of  the  visitant,  has  seen  the  face  of  an 
angel. 

So  all  pain  is  not  punishment,  nor  is  pain  purpose¬ 
less.  It  may  be  God’s  finger-post  pointing  out  the 
path  to  life’s  most  precious  possessions. 


II 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  PRAYER 

There  is  no  problem  more  puzzling  than  that 
of  prayer,  especially  unanswered  prayer.  It  is 
a  spectre  of  the  mind  that  must  be  laid.  It  is  a 
question  that  demands  answering.  The  reason  is 
not  far  to  seek.  Prayer  is  one  of  the  deepest  in¬ 
stincts  of  the  soul.  Go  where  we  will,  we  find  man 
trying  to  express  his  consciousness  of  Something 
other  than  himself.  The  most  cultured  man  of  the 
modern  world,  the  untutored  savage  ranging  the 
gloomy  paths  of  the  forest,  has  each  his  belief  in 
the  need  and  value  of  prayer.  Such  a  belief  will  ex¬ 
press  itself  in  its  own  way.  The  savage  will  go  to 
some  reputedly  sacred  spot,  and  either  through  the 
mediation  of  his  medicine-man  or  by  some  solemn 
rite,  he  will  invoke  the  Unseen.  The  other  will  voice 
the  same  deep  desires  of  his  nature,  though  he  may 
do  it  less  ostentatiously.  But  this  is  the  point :  both 
will  pray  somewhere,  somehow,  to  something,  for 
man  feels  he  ought  to  pray. 

Yet  we  have  also  to  admit  that  sometimes  man 
may  feel  he  ought  not.  What  is  the  use,  he  asks, 
if  God  knows  man’s  needs?  If  God  knows  best, 
why  presume  to  ask  for  anything  specific?  If  God 
does  hear  human  supplication,  can  it  make  any  dif¬ 
ference  when  the  world  is  governed  by  natural  law? 
Thus  the  matter  bristles  with  difficulties.  And  we 

28 


Tke  Problem  of  Prayer  29 

have  either  to  try  to  answer  the  legitimate  questions 
of  the  soul,  or  else  abandon  all  claim  to  be  intellec¬ 
tually  sincere.  There  are  some  people  to  whom 
prayer  is  one  of  the  most  real  facts  of  their  experi¬ 
ence.  They  are  so  sure  that  God  hears  and  that  He 
can  be  trusted  that  their  faith  would  not  fail  though 
all  the  happiness  of  earth  were  withdrawn  from 
them.  Like  the  forest  oak,  the  roots  of  which  go 
down  so  deep  that  the  storm  that  lays  the  ill-rooted 
sapling  low  only  serves  to  give  greater  grip  of  the 
earth,  these  choice  souls  stand  steadier  the  more 
their  faith  is  tried.  They  have  prayed  and  they 
have  been  helped.  They  have  asked  and  received. 
And  so  they  know  no  doubts.  But  what  of 
those  who  have  no  such  fine  faith,  who,  like  Jere¬ 
miah,  might  say,  “When  I  cry  and  shout.  He 
shutteth  out  my  prayer”?  Their  hearts  would 
fain  believe,  but  their  heads  rebel !  In  common 
with  us,  they  wonder  why  it  is  that  if  God  does 
hear  prayer,  so  many  prayers  seem  to  go  unan¬ 
swered. 

This  is  the  position  of  many  of  us.  We  have 
two  books,  side  by  side.  One  is  the  Book  of  God, 
filled  with  promises  that  induce  us  to  pray  by  as¬ 
suring  us  that  the  soul’s  petition  will  secure  an  an¬ 
swer.  The  other  is  that  volume  that  we  handle  six 
or  seven  days  a  week,  called  the  Book  of  Life, 
recording  our  varied  experiences.  Now  these  two 
books  seem  flatly  to  contradict  one  another  some¬ 
times,  and  it  is  these  contradictions  which  cause  so 
much  disquiet  and  distrust.  For  this  is  the  sum  of 
the  matter:  the  Book  of  God  says  Pray — prayer  is 
always  effectual  when  offered  aright;  the  Book  of 
Life  says  prayer  is  often  ineffectual  even  when  the 


30  Problems  that  Perplex 

need  is  most  urgent!  What  then  are  we  to  say? 
Our  aim  in  this  chapter  is  to  help  the  believing  to 
a  firmer  belief,  and  at  the  same  time  to  assist  those 
who  are  groping  for  the  good  which  the  Bible 
promises,  but  which  life  seems  to  deny.  A  truer 
conception  of  prayer  will  clear  away  many  of  the 
difficulties  that  now  surround  it. 

Has  Prayer  any  Real  Value  when  we  invoke 
THE  Divine  Protection? 

The  feeling  of  many  who  have  commended  either 
their  dear  ones  or  themselves  to  the  express  care  of 
God  is  that  prayer  is  apparently  so  uncertain  a  fac¬ 
tor  that  it  is  largely  valueless  when  a  specific  re¬ 
quest  is  made.  We  hear  of  some  wonderful  answers 
to  prayer,  but  they  seldom  come  to  us?  Why  is 
this,  if  God  has  no  favourites? 

Such  a  question  is  not  asked  in  the  spirit  of  carp¬ 
ing.  It  is  a  natural  instinct  to  commend  those  we 
love  to  the  care  of  the  good  Father,  and  moreover, 
we  are  encouraged  by  countless  promises  thus  to  seek 
the  aid  of  the  Supreme.  But  the  puzzling  thing  is, 
sometimes  we  have  the  fullest  warrant  for  believing 
that  our  prayer  has  been  heard,  and  yet,  in  other  in¬ 
stances,  we  know  that  it  has  not  1  We  hear  of  a  man 
who  firmly  believes  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer  for 
safety.  As  he  left  home  one  morning,  having  first 
commended  himself  to  the  care  of  God,  this  was 
demonstrated  to  him.  He  intended  taking  a  rail¬ 
way  journey,  but  by  forgetting  some  important  pa¬ 
pers  and  having  to  return  home  for  them,  he  missed 
his  train.  He  therefore  decided  to  postpone  the 
journey  until  the  next  day.  But  imagine  his  feelings 


The  Troblem  of  Prayer  31 

when,  on  opening  his  evening  paper,  he  read  that  the 
express  by  which  he  ought  to  have  gone  that  morn¬ 
ing  had  been  wrecked.  That  proves  God  answers 
prayer,  he  says.  But  we  are  inclined  to  ask.  What 
of  all  the  rest  of  those  who  traveled — the  dead  and 
the  injured?  Was  he  the  only  man  who  prayed  for. 
the  Divine  care  and  the  only  one  on  whom  God  was 
pleased  to  have  mercy? 

The  same  thing  applies  to  that  awful  experience 
undergone  by  the  passengers  of  the  ill-fated  Lusi¬ 
tania,  when  she  plunged  to  the  depths.  Some  lives 
were  saved,  but  more  than  a  thousand  others  sank 
to  their  ocean  grave.  Are  we  to  think  that  when, 
on  the  first  Sunday  out,  the  passengers  gathered  in 
the  saloon  and  sang: 

“O  hear  us  when  we  cry  to  Thee, 

For  those  in  peril  on  the  sea,” 

God  heard  the  prayers  of  the  few  and  not  of  the 
many?  Surely,  God  is  not  like  that.  We  make 
bold  to  say  that  those  who  sank  in  the  cold  em¬ 
brace  of  death  were  as  dear  to  the  Eternal  Heart 
as  those  who  were  saved  from  their  perilous  plight. 
Yet  in  some  cases,  prayer  seems  to  have  been  ef¬ 
fectual,  and  in  others  it  achieved  nothing. 

Nor  is  that  all.  While  we  may  be  convinced 
that  prayer  for  specific  good  cannot  avail,  on  the 
other  hand  we  are  just  as  sure  that  it  can.  The 
fact  is,  we  have  all  had  answers  to  our  prayers.  It 
is  that  which  makes  us  continue  to  pray  even  when 
the  altar  lights  of  faith  burn  dimly.  Were  we  not 
sure  that  God  does  hear  His  children,  and  that  He 
is  personally  interested  in  their  welfare,  life  would 
be  intolerable.  Its  loads  would  crush  us  to  the 


32  Problems  that  Perplex 

earth.  Whence,  then,  comes  our  faith?  As  we 
look  back,  we  can  distinctly  recall  one  instance  after 
another  of  how  the  darkness  was  pierced  by  a  ray 
of  light  divine,  or  how  deliverance  came  when  we 
were  almost  on  the  brink  of  despair.  We  cried  to 
the  Lord  in  our  trouble,  and  He  delivered  us  out 
of  all  our  distresses ! 

The  life  with  which  our  happiness  was  bound  up 
was  hanging  in  the  balance.  The  doctor,  with  grave 
face,  had  said  that  nothing  could  be  done  until  the 
crisis  was  past,  and  with  nameless  dread  we  stole 
away  to  a  quiet  room  and  locked  the  door.  Then 
the  floods  of  desire  were  unloosed,  and  we  poured 
out  our  soul  in  agony  of  supplication.  The  prayer 
was  answered.  The  life  was  preserved.  With  ex¬ 
ultant  hearts  we  told  ourselves  that  never  again 
could  we  doubt  prayer’s  power.  Yet  another  time, 
when  the  soul  was  in  similar  straits,  we  made  proof 
of  prayer.  But  the  heavens  seemed  as  brass.  The 
life  for  which  we  agonised  was  not  spared;  the 
good  on  which  we  had  set  our  hearts  was  not 
granted,  and  faith  received  a  blow  under  which 
it  reeled.  Prayer  for  'the  help  of  God  does  avail 
sometimes,  but  sometimes,  it  seems  to  disappoint  the 
hopes  to  which  before  it  gave  rise.  What  is  the 
reason? 

Has  Prayer  any  Real  Value  when  we  ask 
FOR  THE  Shaping  of  Events? 

We  are  assured  by  those  who  are  most  com¬ 
petent  to  speak  that  the  natural  world  is  controlled 
by  unalterable  laws.  Nothing  can  depart  from 
the  fixed  order,  and  prayer  is  therefore  unscienti- 


The  Problem  of  Prayer  33 

fie.  For  example,  Professor  Tyndall  says :  “With¬ 
out  the  disturbance  of  a  natural  law  as  serious 
as  the  stoppage  of  an  eclipse,  or  the  rolling  of  the 
river  Niagara  up  the  Falls,  no  act  of  humiliation 
could  call  one  shower  from  heaven,  or  deflect  up¬ 
wards  a  single  beam  of  the  sun.”  But  no  one  dis¬ 
putes  that.  Prayer  is  not  to  be  condemned  as  im¬ 
practicable  on  such  a  flimsy  pretext  as  the  weather. 
We  do  not  dispute  the  fixed  order  in  the  universe. 
It  would  be  a  strange  world  if  we  could  alter  the 
natural  conditions  at  will.  Some  of  us  would  have 
perpetual  sunshine,  unmindful  of  the  Arab  proverb 
that  “All  sunshine  makes  the  desert,”  and  we  would 
banish  the  piercing  winds  of  winter  and  the  frosts 
that  play  such  an  important  part  in  Nature’s  econ¬ 
omy.  But  over  against  the  one  scientist  we  can  put 
the  word  of  another  equally  distinguished.  Sir 
Oliver  Lodge  says,  “It  ought  to  be  admitted  at  once 
by  the  natural  philosophers  that  the  unscientific 
character  of  prayer  for  rain  depends  really  not 
upon  its  conflict  with  any  known  physical  law,  but 
upon  the  disbelief  of  science  in  any  power  that  can 
and  will  attend  and  act.  As  to  what  is  scientifically 
impossible  or  possible,  anything  not  self-contradic¬ 
tory  or  inconsistent  with  any  other  truth  is  possible. 
In  spite  of  anything  said  by  Professor  Tyndall,  this 
statement  must  be  accepted  as  literally  true  for  all 
we  know  to  the  contrary.  .  .  .  Prayer  for  a  fan¬ 
cied  good  that  might  really  be  an  injury  would  be 
foolish;  prayer  for  breach  of  law  would  be  not 
foolish  but  profane.  But  who  are  we  to  dogmatise 
too  positively  concerning  law?”  The  fact  is,  the 
evidence  we  have  in  the  natural  world  of  a  God  who 
loves  order  and  who  has  framed  the  universe  as 


34  Problems  that  Perplex 

an  expression  of  Himself,  may  serve  to  help  us  to  a 
fuller  understanding  of  His  ways  with  mankind. 

Our  Lord  plainly  teaches  that  there  is  a  purpose 
for  every  child  of  man.  The  years  and  what  they 
may  bring  are  known  to  the  Father.  The  way  we 
have  traveled,  the  way  we  have  still  to  tread,  alike 
lie  open  to  the  eyes  of  the  Infinite,  and  He  has  a 
purpose  of  good  for  His  creatures.  It  is  the  same 
with  every  true  father.  He  has  never  stood  by 
the  cot  of  his  child  without  the  heart  swelling  with 
high  hope  for  the  future.  He  sees  there,  not  the 
helpless  infant,  but  the  man  or  the  woman  yet  to 
be,  and  all  his  efforts,  as  well  as  all  his  plans  for 
that  child,  are  that  the  highest  good  may  be  se¬ 
cured.  So  it  is  with  God,  and  this  is  a  point  that  must 
be  made  plain :  He  is  far  more  anxious  to  secure 
the  happiness  and  welfare  of  His  children  than  even 
they  are  to  gain  the  good  that  life  proffers. 

That  being  so,  what  becomes  of  the  wisdom  of 
prayer?  If  God’s  purposes  are  best,  ought  we  to 
presume  to  ask  Him  to  do  as  we  wish,  or  to  shape 
events  to  our  pleasure?  It  seems  not  only  pre¬ 
sumption,  but  the  height  of  folly  to  ask  God  to 
do  this  or  that  for  us.  We  have  sometimes  seen  a 
notice  outside  a  vacant  shop  intimating  that  it  would 
be  “altered  to  suit  a  tenant.”  We  wonder  some¬ 
times  if  we  ought  to  expect  God  to  alter  the  con¬ 
ditions  of  our  life,  in  order  that  we  may  avoid  the 
difficult  and  irksome.  That  is  what  many  of  our 
prayers  demand.  When  trouble  comes  we  pray 
that  we  may  escape  it.  When  some  trial  has  to  be 
faced,  or  some  task  essayed,  it  is  often  our  chief 
desire  to  be  spared  the  experience,  although  when 
we  deal  with  our  children,  we  take  up  quite  a  dif- 


The  Problem  of  Prayer  35 

ferent  attitude.  We  assure  them  that  it  is  only  in 
overcoming  the  difficult  and  the  distasteful  that  they 
can  ever  be  true  men  and  women.  We  tell  them  that 
every  test  they  face  helps  to  develop  their  powers, 
and  we  are  right  in  saying  so.  But  we  cannot 
consistently  pray  that  the  good  Father  will  allow 
us  to  escape  every  unpleasant  experience,  nor  be 
spared  the  painful  trial  that  may  also  be  beneficial 
to  our  souls.  God  would  be  less  than  good  were 
He  to  be  moved  by  every  entreaty  which  has  only 
ease  or  peaceful  living  as  its  motive. 

We  may  glean  a  word  that  will  help  to  a  fuller 
understanding  of  the  matter  before  us  from  our 
great  dramatist: 

“We,  ignorant  of  ourselves, 

Beg  often  our  own  harms,  which  the  wise  powers 
Deny  us  for  our  good ;  so  find  we  profit 
By  losing  of  our  prayers.” 

We  are  always  asking  foolish  things  which,  if 
granted,  would  work  untold  havoc  in  our  lives. 
We  have  only  to  look  back  at  some  of  our  unan¬ 
swered  prayers  to  realise  in  the  light  of  present 
knowledge,  that  it  would  have  been  calamitous  had 
our  way  been  chosen  and  our  prayer  answered  as  we 
once  hoped.  If  God  had  taken  us  at  our  word, 
some  of  the  most  precious  lessons  of  life  would  have 
been  missed,  and  some  of  its  choicest  blessings 
would  never  have  come  our  way.  Our  growing  ex¬ 
perience  has  taught  us  that  after  all  God  knew 
best  even  when  the  denial  almost  broke  our  hearts. 

But  at  once  it  will  occur  to  some.  What  becomes 
of  all  the  promises  that  prayer  will  be  answered? 
Our  Lord  said,  “Ask  and  ye  shall  receive,”  and 


36  Problems  that  Perplex 

some  of  His  parables  were  expressly  meant  to  en¬ 
courage  men  in  praying  about  the  ordinary  wants 
of  life.  Quite  so !  But  surely  there  are  conditions 
applying  to  prayer.  We  are  not  foolish  enough  to 
present  a  signed  blank  cheque  to  a  person  without 
any  sense  of  the  value  of  money,  or  to  loose  a  boy 
in  a  well-stocked  larder.  There  are  certain  definite 
laws  by  which  alone  prayer  can  be  answered,  and  it 
is  non-recognition  or  (disobedience  of  these  laws 
which  means  so  many  unanswered  prayers.  But  as 
is  obvious,  it  would  be  folly  to  give  a  man  power  to 
obtain  anything  which  he  might  desire,  and  God  is 
too  careful  of  the  interests  of  His  children  to  give 
them  power  to  do  irreparable  injury  to  their  spirit¬ 
ual  life. 

This  is  where  many  have  gone  astray.  They  look 
on  prayer  simply  as  mere  asking  and  receiving,  or, 
as  is  perhaps  more  likely,  asking  and  not  receiving. 
Prayer  is  something  infinitely  bigger  than  that.  You 
may  have  seen  one  of  the  gigantic  Atlantic  grey¬ 
hounds  moored  fast  to  the  wharf  by  its  great  wire 
cables.  The  tide  is  running  strongly,  and  one  could 
almost  believe  that  this  ship  were  a  thing  of  life 
with  the  alluring  call  of  the  sea  in  its  ears,  and  a 
wild  desire  to  break  away  filling  its  breast.  But 
till  everything  is  ready,  it  is  held  in  fast  by  the 
strong  leash.  Now  though  from  a  distance  these 
cables  look  as  though  they  were  each  a  rope  of 
great  thickness,  we  know  they  are  made  up  of  a 
number  of  single  strands  of  wire,  closely  woven  to¬ 
gether.  It  is  so  with  prayer.  There  are,  at  least, 
seven  strands  making  up  the  cable  that  holds  the 
soul  to  God.  We  may  call  these  adoration,  con¬ 
fession,  gratitude,  praise,  intercession,  petition,  and 


The  Problem  of  Prayer  37 

communion  by  which  the  human  becomes  conscious 
of  its  dependence  on  the  divine.  Petition  is  certainly 
one  strand  in  true  prayer,  but  it  is  not  the  only 
one  nor  even  the  most  important  one,  any  more  than 
the  asking  for  the  toys  of  childhood  is  the  only 
element  in  filial  love.  Yet  to  many  petition  is  the 
only  form  of  prayer.  They  take  the  single  strand 
and  then  wonder  that  it  is  unable  to  stand  the 
strain  of  life’s  wild  ebb  and  flow. 

Let  us  put  it  another  way.  The  sun  is  usually 
thought  of  simply  as  a  giver  which  sends  forth  its 
gladdening  light  making  the  earth  blossom,  and 
giving  seed  to  the  sower  and  bread  to  the  eater.  But 
it  is  more  than  that.  It  is  the  wonderful  force 
that  attracts  and  controls  the  worlds.  God  is  not 
only  the  Giver  of  every  good  gift,  but  as  the  Sun 
of  man’s  soul  He  wants  to  do  more  than  give;  He 
seeks  to  attract  and  hold  the  soul  to  Himself. 

Has  Prayer  any  Validity  for  Us? 

As  we  have  observed,  prayer,  like  every  other 
form  of  energy,  has  its  conditions.  If  we  would 
utilise  the  mysterious  forces  of  electricity  definite 
laws  must  be  obeyed.  The  power  must  be  conducted 
to  our  apparatus  and  appliances.  There  must  be 
insulation  as  well  as  contact  if  we  want  light  and 
power.  So  it  is  with  the  mighty  forces  of  prayer 
which  God  has  placed  within  reach  of  the  soul. 
Here  are  some  of  the  ascertained  conditions  of  ef¬ 
fectual  prayer. 

First,  prayer  must  be  according  to  God’s  will. 
The  fact  that  we  are  bidden  to  present  our  petitions 
in  the  name  of  Christ  implies  this.  It  is  not  in- 


38  Problems  that  Ferplex 

yoking  the  aid  of  a  friend  at  court.  It  is  certainly 
not  seeking  to  get  what  we  want  by  the  familiar 
device  of  “using  influence.”  That  may  obtain  when 
we  endeavour  to  wrest  some  favour  from  a  reluctant 
state  department,  but  it  is  not  the  method  that 
God  countenances.  When  the  soul  approaches  the 
Divine  Benefactor  presenting  its  petition  in  the 
name  of  the  Son,  it  must  be  with  the  assurance  that 
such  a  prayer  is  that  which  the  Son  Himself  would 
approve.  Moody  relates  an  incident  that  may  serve 
to  make  this  plain.  There  was  a  man  of  the  legal 
profession  who,  during  the  Civil  War  in  America, 
was  heart  and  soul  in  his  efforts  to  alleviate  the 
sufferings  of  the  wounded,  and  bring  cheer  to  the 
stricken  men.  In  a  hundred  ways  he  was  giving 
time  and  money  to  the  cause.  But  he  found  that 
he  was  neglecting  his  work,  and  an  important  case 
down  for  hearing,  he  resolved  to  look  after  his 
affairs  a  little  more.  That  day  a  man  on  crutches 
hobbled  into  his  office  bearing  a  letter  from  the 
lawyer’s  son  in  the  army,  and  asking  the  father  to 
do  all  he  could  for  this  wounded  fellow,  “for  my 
sake!”  His  good  resolutions  went  by  the  board. 
Though  he  had  never  set  eyes  on  this  man  before, 
“for  my  sake”  made  an  irresistible  appeal.  It  was 
as  though  his  own  boy  looked  at  him  through  the 
stranger’s  eyes,  asking  for  help. 

So  God  sees  His  alien  children  in  the  light  of 
His  dear  Son,  and  for  the  sake  of  Jesus,  the 
petitions  they  bring  are  surely  heard.  But  there  is 
more  than  that.  Such  supplications  must  have  the 
spirit  of  sonship  pervading  them.  It  is  only  where 
the  will  of  the  Father  is  put  before  all  else  that 
the  name  of  the  Son  can  be  rightly  employed  and 


The  Problem  of  Prayer  39 

an  answer  assured.  We  do  not  receive  all  we  ask 
just  because  we  append  Christ’s  name  to  a  petition 
which  may  be  selfish  or  even  stupid.  The  wounded 
man  would  not  get  anything  that  whim  or  fancy 
might  suggest.  He  got  the  best,  but  only  the  best; 
that  which  could  be  done  for  him  without  interfer¬ 
ing  with  his  recovery  and  his  highest  good.  So 
when  the  filial  spirit  inspires  the  prayer  as  well  as 
hallows  it,  then,  “Ask  and  ye  shall  receive”  is  a 
promise  that  God  will  be  swift  to  honour.  Take 
a  concrete  instance  that  provides  a  touchstone  by 
which  all  prayer  may  be  tested.  Jesus  always  mani¬ 
fested  the  spirit  of  submission  to  the  Father’s  will, 
and  never  is  this  more  clearly  seen  than  when  He 
knelt  in  that  awful  hour  in  Gethsemane.  All  the 
world  seemed  against  Him.  The  darkness  that 
wrapped  Him  about  was  but  typical  of  the  gloom 
that  human  hate  and  misunderstanding  had  brought. 
Yet  He  could  pray.  There  with  the  moonlight  cast¬ 
ing  a  fretted  pattern  through  the  branches,  and  the 
sleeping  disciples  only  a  stone’s  throw  from  Him, 
He  poured  out  His  soul.  He  reveals  His  true  hu¬ 
manity  in  dreading  the  horror  that  lay  before  Him. 
His  real  divinity  is  also  seen  as  He  shrinks  from 
the  degradation  that  identification  with  the  sinful 
race  would  involve,  culminating  upon  the  cross. 
There  in  the  solitude  Christ  prayed  that  the  cup  of 
suffering  might  pass  from  Him;  but  the  apex  of  true 
prayer  is  reached  in  the  glorious  words,  “Never¬ 
theless,  not  My  will,  but  Thine  be  done.” 

Before  we  discuss  this  further,  take  another  in¬ 
stance.  Paul  suffered  some  handicap  that  was  inter¬ 
fering  with  his  work.  He  calls  it  “a  thorn  in  the 
flesh.”  It  was  such  a  hindrance  that  it  made  his 


40  Problems  that  Perplex 

life  a  burden  to  him  and  his  beloved  work  a  weari¬ 
ness,  so  that  he  could  not  use  his  opportunities  as 
he  wished.  Three  times  he  prayed  that  it  might 
pass.  Was  his  prayer  answered?  Not  in  the  way 
he  desired,  but  in  the  way  God  saw  best.  And  that 
was,  not  to  lift  the  load,  but  to  give  additional 
strength  to  carry  it;  not  to  make  life  easier  for  His 
servant,  but  to  make  him  equal  to  the  demands  that 
life  was  making.  Thus  Paul  found  not  relief,  but 
reinforcement.  It  was  so  in  the  case  of  his  Master. 
Christ  submitted  the  whole  choice  to  God.  He 
prayed  that  if  the  purpose  of  God  could  be  accom¬ 
plished  without  the  agony  that  lay  before  Him  that 
He  might  be  spared  it,  but  His  highest  desire  was 
to  complete  His  mission,  whatever  the  cost,  and 
so  His  soul  soared  to  that  sublime  “Nevertheless.” 
Thus  the  victory  was  gained.  His  prayer  was  an¬ 
swered,  and  strength  to  endure  was  vouchsafed. 

This  is  the  highest  form  of  prayer  to  which  the 
soul  can  give  utterance.  It  may  specify  “this  cup,” 
but  its  ultimate  goal  is  power  to  say,  “Nevertheless,” 
for  in  that  the  choice  of  God  is  acknowledged  to  be 
the  best. 

This  may  be  the  key  that  will  unlock  the  doors 
of  mystery.  “Ye  ask  and  receive  not  because  ye 
ask  amiss.”  We  ask  for  the  wrong  things,  we  ask 
in  the  wrong  way,  and  we  ask  in  the  wrong  spirit. 
For  if  we  are  dictatorial  and  unsubmissive,  or  if 
we  regard  iniquity  in  our  hearts,  then  in  the  very  , 
nature  of  things  God  cannot  answer  us  as  we  desire. 
We  meet  a  mother  who  has  lost  her  first-born.  She 
cannot  pray.  The  reason  is,  she  has  a  drawer  full 
of  little  things  over  which  her  heart  yearns :  a  pair 
of  baby  shoes,  some  tiny  garments,  a  few  cherished 


The  Problem  of  Prayer  41 

toys,  and  with  these  she  feeds  her  bitterness  and 
resentment  till  her  soul  is  hot  with  rebellion.  She 
must  learn  her  lesson  if  relief  is  ever  to  come.  We 
have  been  in  homes  where  the  war  has  taken  its  toll. 
But  instead  of  pride  in  the  gallant  sacrifice  of"  the 
fallen,  instead  of  submission  that  would  have  opened 
-the  flood-gates  of  comfort  and  blessing  for  those 
stricken  hearts,  there  have  been  bitterness  and  re¬ 
pining.  “Every  night  and  morning  our  boy  was 
prayed  for,  and  this  is  all  that  results !”  But  were 
the  prayers  of  those  parents  unavailing?  Never! 
God  loved  that  boy  with  as  great  a  love  as  ever 
sprang  from  a  mother’s  heart.  He  even  brought 
him  home,  for  though  it  was  not  to  the  earthly 
home  it  was  to  that  place  of  eternal  felicity  where 
the  vision  of  the  King  in  His  beauty  is  never 
obscured  by  the  mists  of  earth. 

There  is  more  than  one  way  of  answering  prayer. 
We  think  there  can  be  only  one  way — our  way. 
But  God  knows  better  than  we.  The  fact  is,  our 
thoughts  do  not  always  soar  above  material  things. 
Food  and  raiment,  happiness  and  success — these 
are  the  extent  of  our  desires.  But  God’s  gifts  are 
often  “exceeding  ahove’^  what  we  ask  or  think,  and 
that  surely  denotes  the  quality  as  well  as  the  quan¬ 
tity  of  the  Divine  giving.  “There  are  several 
methods,”  says  Romanes,  “by  which  it  is  amply  ap¬ 
parent  even  to  our  limited  faculties  that  the  Almighty 
may  answer  prayer  without  in  any  way  violating  the 
course  of  natural  law,”  and  it  is  true  that  there  are 
also  many  ways  in  which,  that  the  best  may  be 
secured  for  His  children,  their  petitions  may  be 
answered. 

Another  reason  why  the  answer  may  be  delayed 


4-2  Problems  that  Perplex 

is  that  our  attitude  may  not  be  receptive.  We 
must  come  into  that  relationship  with  God  that 
makes  the  answer  possible.  The  boy  who  has  begged 
for  a  watch  must  first  know  how  to  handle  one. 
He  has  to  believe  that  it  will  require  care,  and 
that  it  contains  more  parts  than  he  will  ever  find 
room  for  should  he  venture  to  take  it  to  pieces. 
But  granting  all  this,  he  must  come  to  his  father 
to  receive  it.  The  father  wants  to  put  it  into  his 
hand  not  only  for  the  sheer  joy  of  giving,  but  be¬ 
cause  it  is  his  boy,  and  the  heart  craves  contact 
with  the  object  of  its  affection.  God  is  not  less 
human  than  we  are !  He  cannot  give  all  we  ask, 
even  though  it  be  good,  unless  we  come  sufficiently 
near  to  Him  to  receive  instruction  about  the  use 
we  must  make  of  the  gift,  and  near  enough  that  He 
may  give  to  us  with  His  own  hand.  Prayer  shapes 
the  soul,  making  an  atmosphere  in  which  it  can  re¬ 
ceive  the  light  of  the  Father’s  purpose,  and  thus 
be  blessed. 

We  are  told  that  there  is  a  point  outside  our 
world,  a  thousand  miles  or  more  above  the  earth, 
beyond  which  there  is  no  atmosphere.  Through 
that  space,  the  sun  pours  its  rays  through  the  ether, 
dark  and  cold.  But  there  are  no  effects  of  the  sun’s 
radiance  such  as  we  know.  It  needs  the  atmosphere 
to  make  the  earth  rejoice,  in  the  mellow  rays,  for 
it  is  only  by  refraction  and  radiation  that  heat  and 
light  can  be  ours.  Prayer  makes  possible,  therefore, 
the  good  that  God  intends.  The  warmth  and  light 
of  the  Spirit  are  communicated.  Gracious  influ¬ 
ences  that  help  to  mould  as  well  as  to  direct  the 
soul’s  activities  are  set  in  operation,  and  prayer 
becomes  a  power  that  is  indisputable. 


The  Problem  of  Prayer  43 

Our  specific  requests  ought  to  be  continued,  and 
our  needs  expressed.  “In  everything,  by  prayer 
and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving,  let  your  requests 
be  made  known  unto  God.”  But  at  the  same  time, 
remember  that  the  ultimate  choice  must  rest  with 
God.  He  knows  best  whether  to  give  or  to  with¬ 
hold.  He  has  only  the  good  of  His  children  at 
heart.  He  will  give  success  where  that  can  be 
entrusted;  or  if  that  be  denied,  then  failure  that 
can  be  borne.  If  pain  comes  along  the  line  of  life, 
then  pain  shall  yield  its  most  fragrant  blossoms. 
If  the  loads  of  life  are  not  lifted  at  our  repeated 
request,  then  strength  to  carry  them  shall  be  ours. 
All  prayers  are  heard  even  if  all  prayers  are  not 
answered  according  to  our  particular  desire.  We 
will  go  further  and  say  that  no  prayer  that  is  of¬ 
fered  in  the  true  filial  spirit,  that  is  offered  with 
the  will  of  the  Supreme  as  its  goal,  can  fail  of  ifs 
answer.  Pray!  the  example  of  Christ,  the  promises 
of  Christ  and  His  apostles,  and  the  accumulated 
experience  of  Christian  hearts  through  the  centuries 
all  testify  to  this:  “More  things  are  wrought  by 
prayer  than  this  world  dreams  of!” 


Ill 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  PROVIDENCE 

\\T AS  Shakespeare  right  when  he  said,  “There’s 
a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends,”  or  are  we 
to  look  upon  the  statement  as  a  good-intentioned 
sentiment  calculated  to  cheer  the  heart  of  man, 
but  without  much  authority?  If  one  is  sufficiently 
interested  to  look  at  a  Concordance,  one  will  find 
that  Providence  is  unmentioned  except  in  one  place, 
and  then  it  is  ascribed  to  man,  not  to  God.  Must 
we  dismiss  the  doctrine  of  Providence  as  something 
once  believed,  but  now  outgrown,  or  an  idle  fiction, 
the  wish  being  father  to  the  thought?  Whatever 
our  answer,  we  have  to  admit  that  the  matter  is  one 
of  perennial  interest,  and  though  the  world  has 
moved  far  along  the  highway  of  knowledge,  this 
matter  cannot  be  brushed  aside  with  ruthless  hand 
as  unimportant.  The  Scriptures  give  us  warrant  for 
believing  that  there  is  One  who  is  ever  mindful  of 
His  children. 

If  ever  a  man  were  justified  in  such  a  belief,  that 
man  was  Joseph.  There  is  nothing  more  wonderful 
in  the  sober  pages  of  history  or  the  glowing  pages 
of  romance  than  that  story  of  that  shepherd  lad. 
He  is  the  object  of  his  brothers’  envy.  They  dis¬ 
like  his  ways,  though  probably  the  worst  thing  he 
had  ever  done  was  to  obtain  more  than  his  rightful 
share  of  his  father’s  affection.  Perhaps  Jacob  was 

44 


The  Problem  of  Providence  45 

to  blame.  No  father  ought  to  have  favourites.  We 
can  readily  understand  the  resentment  that  filled  the 
hearts  of  the  rest  when  they  saw  the  way  in  which 
Joseph  was  singled  out  for  preference  and  regard. 

It  was  little  use  showing  their  disapproval,  so 
they  took  the  law  into  their  own  hands.  Luring 
him  from  home,  they  flung  the  lad  into  a  pit.  Then 
that  good  might  come  out  of  evil,  they  sold  him 
to  some  slave-dealers,  and  divided  the  spoil.  So, 
while  the  father  mourned  his  son  as  dead,  Joseph 
was  on  the  way  to  Eg3rpt. 

There  he  was  bought  by  Potiphar,  a  man  of 
wealth  and  position,  who,  seeing  the  bargain  he 
had  obtained,  soon  gave  the  young  man  a  good 
deal  of  liberty  and  power  in  his  household.  Then 
came  tragedy  on  tragedy.  His  master’s  wife  fail¬ 
ing  to  ruin  Joseph  in  one  way,  set  about  doing  it 
in  another,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  hapless 
fellow  found  himself  in  prison  on  a  charge  of  which 
he  was  completely  innocent.  That  mattered  little 
as  the  law  stood  then.  He  was  supposed  to  be 
guilty,  and  as  he  had  no  money  to  gain  a  verdict  in 
his  favour,  guilty  he  remained  in  the  eyes  of  the 
law.  One  can  understand  this  young  heart  becom¬ 
ing  bitter.  He  might  surely  have  said,  as  Olive 
Schreiner  does,  “There  is  no  justice — all  things  are 
driven  about  by  a  blind  chance.”  But  he  did  not 
lose  heart.  He  believed  in  that  Divinity  that  shapes 
our  ends,  and  in  that  dark  hour,  when  everything 
seemed  against  him,  we  see  a  wonderful  power  of 
making  the  best  of  things  manifesting  itself.  Evi¬ 
dently  that  blessed  faculty  of  seeing  the  humorous 
side  of  life  was  his,  for  he  was  not  above  getting 
some  amusement  as  an  interpreter  of  dreams. 


46  Problems  that  Perplex 

When  two  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  doubtless  suf¬ 
fering  from  the  effects  of  the  sumptuous  prison  fare, 
were  troubled  with  disquieting  visions  in  the  night, 
Joseph  undertook  to  tell  them  the  meaning  of  their 
dreams.  It  is  possible  he  had  heard  something 
of  the  affairs  of  these  men,  and  so  he  was  rightly 
able  to  foretell  their  future.  At  any  rate,  things 
fell  out  just  as  he  had  said.  His  name  was  made 
as  a  revealer  of  coming  events,  and  though  Time 
dragged  on  with  leaden  feet,  at  last  his  chance 
came. 

The  king  also  dreamed,  and  as  is  quite  fitting, 
his  dreams  were  far  more  fantastic  than  those  of 
the  common  prison.  But  when  it  came  to  inter¬ 
preting  them,  not  one  of  his  many  magicians  and 
wise  men  could  invent  a  satisfactory  explanation. 
Then  someone  remembered  the  Hebrew  prisoner 
who  had  shown  such  skill  in  making  plain  the 
mysteries  of  men’s  dreams,  and  thus  Joseph,  who 
had  probably  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was 
forgotten  for  all  time,  is  brought  hastily  into  the 
royal  presence.  At  first  he  is  dazzled  by  the  dancing 
lights,  and  awe-stricken  by  the  splendour  of  the 
sovereign  whose  piercing  eyes  reveal  the  curiosity 
that  the  coming  of  this  youth  has  stirred.  The  royal 
dreams  are  related,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  light 
Divine  as  well  as  his  own  commonsense,  Joseph  is 
able  to  tell  the  king  of  the  approaching  years  of 
plenty  to  be  followed  by  years  of  famine. 

Pharaoh  is  so  impressed  with  the  skill  of  this 
strange  interpreter  that  at  once  he  raises  him  to 
a  position  of  power  well-nigh  incredible,  and  when 
want,  gaunt  and  grim,  stalks  through  the  land,  the 


The  Froblem  of  Providence  47 

granaries  built  under  the  direction  of  Joseph  keep 
him  at  bay. 

Meanwhile,  Jacob,  who  has  long  given  up  his 
son  for  dead,  feels  the  pressure  of  want,  and  sends 
his  sons  down  to  Egypt  to  purchase  corn.  They 
are  easily  recognised  by  their  now  prosperous 
brother,  and  when  by  strategy  he  gets  them  ar¬ 
raigned  before  him  on  a  charge  of  dishonesty,  he 
reveals  his  identity,  rewarding  their  baseness  with 
a  true  brotherliness  that  is  touching.  But  the  point 
to  note  is  this:  he  affirms  his  belief  in  Providence 
in  the  striking  words,  “Ye  meant  it  for  evil,  but  God 
meant  it  for  good.”  Is  it  to  be  taken  as  true  that 
God  was  behind  all  the  strange  happenings  of  Jo¬ 
seph’s  life?  If  every  sparrow’s  fall  is  known  to 
God,  then  what  Joseph  felt  and  Jesus  taught,  that 
there  is  an  overruling  Providence  at  work  in  the 
world,  is  worth  pondering.  If  we  could  only  be¬ 
lieve  it  I  What  help  it  would  bring  to  the  weary  and 
perplexed  children  of  men,  aiding  them  in  the  hour 
of  their  need,  and  casting  a  gladdening  beam  of 
hope  across  the  darkest  sky.  But  can  we  honestly 
believe  in  such  a  beneficent  power?  That  is  the 
whole  difficulty. 

The  Idea  seems  to  be  denied  by  the  Facts 

OF  Life 

The  greatness  of  the  universe  is  undoubtedly  a 
factor  that  affects  faith.  Some  affirm  that  we  have 
'  only  the  scientist  to  thank  for  this.  We  do  not 
think  so.  It  is  only  that  the  truth  he  has  brought 
to  light  has  been  misunderstood.  We  admit  that 
the  world  as  we  know  it  is  far  greater  than  our 


48  Problems  that  Perplex 

grandparents  thought  it  was.  Many  a  cherished 
idea  has  been  flung  overboard.  We  are  not  the 
only  world.  The  astronomer  has  swept  the 
heavens  with  his  mammoth  telescopes  and  he  has 
told  us  that  there  are  worlds  far  greater  than  this 
planet  on  which  we  live.  We  are  but  a  speck  in 
the  great  system,  and  our  little  globe,  with  all  its 
trials  and  tears,  its  competition  and  its  conquests, 
is  of  very  little  account  in  the  scale  of  things.  In¬ 
stead  of  being  the  only  world  that  God  made,  we 
are  an  insignificant  one  among  millions.  But  then, 
as  far  as  we  know,  this  is  the  only  planet  bearing 
human  life,  and  a  world  inhabited  by  those  whom 
God  made  in  His  own  image,  loved  so  tenderly 
and  redeemed  at  such  cost,  must  be  infinitely  more 
precious  to  the  Divine  heart  than  the  unhabitable 
waste  of  the  distant  bodies  that  circle  in  the  heavens. 
This  is  just  what  some  men  have  missed.  They 
have  looked  on  the  whole  scheme  of  things  as  so 
gigantic  that  to  them  it  seems  the  height  of  folly 
to  think  that  God  can  care  for  this  tiny  globe. 

Coupled  with  this  fact,  there  is  the  vastness  of 
the  human  race  making  the  idea  of  Providence  un¬ 
thinkable  for  some  minds.  But  we  want  to  know 
the  reason.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  make  general  state¬ 
ments  about  what  God  can  do  or  cannot  do  when 
we  do  not  know  the  depths  of  the  Divine  love  nor 
the  resources  of  the  Divine  Being.  We  have  to 
remember  that,  after  all,  we  are  concerned  with  the 
workings  of  the  Almighty  Father.  Yet  we  shall 
never  get  at  the  real  facts  if  we  refuse  to  face  the 
difficulties  of  those  who  are  often  as  eager  in  their 
quest  of  truth  as  ourselves.  They  point  to  the 
dense  surging  crowds  that  fill  the  streets  of  our 


The  Froblem  of  Providence  49 

cities.  They  look  with  sad  hearts  on  the  hives  and 
hovels  where  the  poor  are  herded  together.  They 
read  imposing  figures  regarding  the  myriads  of 
India  and  China,  and  then  they  ask  how  is  it  pos¬ 
sible  for  God  to  look  on  the  varied  needs  of  man’s 
millions  and  minister  to  them  individually?  The 
Supreme  cannot  trouble  Himself  about  the  details 
of  these  paltry  creatures,  nor  attend  even  to  their 
cries  w^hen  they  lift  hands  of  prayer.  It  is  in¬ 
credible  to  suppose  that  He  can  direct  their  ways 
as  though  each  soul  were  the  one  object  of  His  care  ! 
The  insignificance  of  the  individual  is  indisputable ! 

Yet  we  are  met  with  this  fact:  rightly  or  wrongly, 
men  feel  that  they  do  count  in  the  thought  of  God. 
Though  they  look  on  the  vast  expanse  of  the  starry 
dome,  they  cannot  but  feel  that  great  though  the 
universe  may  be,  a  living  human  soul  is  greater. 
Though  they  lift  their  eyes  to  the  mighty  moun¬ 
tains  that  rear  their  hoary  heads  to  the  heavens, 
they  yet  feel  that  there  is  a  place  in  the  Eternal  heart 
for  puny  man.  Whence  came  this  belief  in  the  worth 
of  man  and  the  beneficence  of  God?  Is  it  all  some 
stupendous  piece  of  superstition  that  has  survived 
the  ravages  of  time,  or  is  it  a  proof  of  the  bond 
that  binds  the  Heavenly  Father  to  the  children  of 
earth?  There  was  no  doubt  in  Joseph’s  mind.  As 
he  looked  back  over  the  troublous  waters  he  had 
sailed  he  saw  that  the  skilled  hand  of  the  Pilot  had 
been  upon  the  helm.  Though  he  had  suffered  many 
things  at  the  hands  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  God 
had  never  forsaken  him,  but  had  so  overruled  the 
happenings  of  the  years  that  good  had  come  as  the 
gladdening  Spring  after  wintry  days. 

In  the  ancient  city  of  Chester  there  is  a  quaint 


50  Problems  that  Perplex 

building  known  as  God’s  Providence  House.  It  is 
said  that  when  a  dread  plague  swept  the  city  on  one 
occasion,  this  was  the  only  house  that  was  untouched 
by  the  grim  spectre.  While  hundreds  tossed  in  ter¬ 
rible  anguish,  the  people  of  this  house  went  about 
their  daily  duties  unscathed,  and  so  the  good  man 
of  the  house  inscribed  over  his  dwelling,  “God’s 
providence  is  my  inheritance.”  But  surely  this  is 
very  singular.  Why  should  that  one  house  have 
been  spared?  We  have  no  record  that  the  occupier 
was  more  godly  than  his  neighbours,  nor  can  we 
believe  that  he  alone  had  claim  upon  the  Divine 
care.  Let  us  take  another  instance.  When  the  ill- 
fated  Empress  of  Ireland  sank  to  her  ocean  grave, 
carrying  so  many  hapless  souls  with  her,  there  were 
some  people  who  had  marvellous  escapes  to  relate. 
One  man  had  received  a  message  at  the  last  mo¬ 
ment  that  entailed  cancelling  his  passage.  What  a 
providential  happening!  Another  was  delayed  on 
his  journey  to  the  port  of  embarkation,  and  when 
he  arrived,  he  found  the  boat  had  sailed  without 
him.  Providence  again  1  And  there  were  others 
who,  for  one  reason  or  another,  had  been  spared 
the  awful  experience  that  befell  so  many.  Were  they 
the  only  righteous  ones?  Were  they  singled  out 
for  the  favour  of  Heaven?  That  seems  irrational. 
Then,  says  the  objector,  it  simply  points  to  this,  there 
may  be  a  Providence  at  work  in  the  world,  but  it 
cannot  concern  itself  with  the  petty  affairs  of  each 
life;  the  individual  is  far  too  insignificant.  In  that 
case,  we  must  accept  Spinoza’s  counsel  when  he  says, 
“We  should  await  and  endure  fortune’s  smiles  or 
frowns  with  an  equal  mind,  seeing  that  all  things 
follow  from  an  eternal  decree  of  God  by  the  same 


The  Problem  of  Providence  51 

necessity  as  it  follows  from  the  essence  of  a  triangle 
that  the  three  angles  are  equal  to  two  right  angles.” 
So  the  idea  of  a  Providence  that  looks  upon  the  per¬ 
sonal  interests  of  man  is  ruled  out  of  account.  The 
only  rational  course  would  then  seem  to  be  a  trust 
in  Fate. 

But  while  men  may  deny  the  fact  that  God 
cares  for  the  individual,  we  place  this  fact  before 
them  as  worthy  of  consideration:  Jesus  Christ 
taught  differently,  and  even  this  half-enlightened 
Hebrew  in  Egypt,  deep  in  the  gloom  of  misfortune 
for  a  time  then  suddenly  soaring  to  unthought-of 
heights,  felt  that  God  did  care,  and  verily  guided 
those  who  trusted  Him. 

The  Idea  of  Providence  is  quite  Reasonable 

WHEN  Defined 

The  greatness  of  God  is  one  ground  for  this 
statement.  The  world  is  admittedly  vast,  but  the 
love  of  God  is  vaster.  The  needs  of  mankind  are 
legion,  but  that  does  not  mean  that  God  is  incapable 
of  dealing  with  them.  So  when  Joseph  points  to  the 
varied  experiences  of  his  chequered  career,  when 
Jesus  shows  by  comparison  how  much  more  precious 
in  the  sight  of  God  the  human  soul  is  than  the 
sparrow,  we  are  confronted  with  facts  that  cannot 
be  lightly  disregarded. 

Lowell  has  given  us  a  lovely  image  that  helps 
us  as  we  come  to  formulate  our  faith  in  the  over¬ 
ruling  love : 

“Over  his  keys,  the  musing  organist 
Beginning  doubtfully  and  far  away, 

First  lets  his  fingers  wander  as  they  list, 


52  Problems  that  Perplex 

And  builds  a  bridge  from  Dreamland  for  his  lay. 

Then,  as  the  touch  of  his  loved  instrument 

Gives  hope  and  fervour,  nearer  draws  his  theme.’* 

Thus  may  we  muse  over  the  strange  phenomena 
of  our  lives,  and  with  the  aid  of  the  Divine  Spirit 
come  to  understand  more  of  that  great  Heart  that 
beats  at  the  centre  of  the  universe.  We  may  not 
profess  to  have  the  key  of  all  the  creeds,  nor  to 
understand  all  mysteries.  But  from  our  own  knowl¬ 
edge  of  God’s  dealings  with  us  and  gleaning  what 
we  can  from  the  experience  of  others,  help  may 
come  to  cheer  our  often  perplexed  minds.  All  the 
happenings  of  life  are  not  directly  to  be  traced  to 
the  Divine  acts.  That  would  make  God  responsible 
for  the  ills  that  man  has  wrought  in  the  world. 
But  what  we  can  confidently  affirm  is  that  He  knows 
perfectly  the  trials  that  come  to  every  soul  and  the 
varied  experiences  of  the  high  and  the  humble, 
the  sinful  and  the  saintly.  He  alone  understands 
the  meaning  of  life’s  strange  medley  of  joy  and 
sorrow,  of  triumphs  and  tears,  and  through  all 
His  dealings  with  His  children,  yea,  through  all 
life’s  dealings  with  them,  there  runs  the  golden 
thread  of  His  beneficent  purpose.  He  sees  the  way 
we  take.  When  we  are  willing  to  be  directed.  He 
guides  our  feet.  When  we  are  open  to  receive 
His  aid.  He  helps  us.  In  ways  that  are  beyond 
the  power  of  man  to  fathom,  yet  in  ways  that  are 
reasonable  enough,  the  Eternal  Father  makes  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to  those  who  love 
Him.  It  is  not  that  He  has  any  favourites.  That 
would  be  unworthy  of  the  Supreme.  It  is  that  those 
who  are  in  fellowship  with  Him,  who  are  amenable 
to  the  discipline  of  His  hand,  are  capable  of  profit- 


The  Problem  of  Providence  53 

Ing  by  their  experiences,  and  of  realising  the  per¬ 
sonal  love  and  interest  of  God.  For  God’s  greatness 
is  the  guarantee  of  His  goodness.  Of  course,  man 
cannot  attend  to  more  than  a  certain  amount  of 
detail,  and  we  accept  it  as  an  axiom  that  the 
greater  the  man,  the  less  his  concern  for  the  trivial 
happenings  of  his  business  or  his  home.  But  with 
God  that  does  not  hold,  for  He  is  great  enough 
not  only  to  comprehend  our  ways,  and  to  compass 
our  paths,  but  also  to  take  a  fatherly  interest  in 
the  frailest  child  of  His  great  family. 

Of  necessity,  that  greatness  will  tend  to  mystify 
man’s  mind.  Some  of  the  Divine  ways  will  be 
above  our  powers  of  comprehension,  but  then,  are 
not  our  ways  with  our  children  sometimes  unintelli¬ 
gible  to  them?  Yet  we  know  our  motives  are  of  the 
best.  So  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if,  scanning 
the  pages  of  the  past,  we  sometimes  come  across 
some  passages  that  we  cannot  understand.  Dr. 
Parker  remarks  that  in  reading  a  book,  you  may 
come  upon  a  sentence  or  a  passage  written  in  a 
language  with  which  you  may  be  entirely  unfamiliar. 
What  are  you  to  do?  You  just  go  on  reading  what 
follows  in  your  mother-tongue,  in  the  hope  that  you 
will  get  the  sense  of  the  quotation  as  you  proceed. 
That  certainly  happens  as  we  read  the  volume  of 
the  years.  We  have  to  skip  some  passages,  for  we 
cannot  make  anything  of  them.  But  one  day  we 
shall  understand,  and  we  can  trust  that  what  is 
hidden  from  us  is  intelligible  to  the  great  Author. 
It  is  I  He  understands  every  syllable  of  the  soul’s 
story,  and  there  is  not  a  word  on  its  many  pages 
that  is  meaningless. 

Nor  is  that  all.  There  is  more  than  greatness 


54  Problems  that  Perplex 

in  the  Divine  character;  goodness  is  supreme.  As 
we  cannot  but  reveal  character  in  the  discharge  of 
life’s  obligations,  so  God  reveals  Himself  in  His 
dealings  with  His  children.  But  can  that  be  true 
when  we  see  wickedness  permitted  to  run  its  course 
and  maddening  misery  forcing  man  to  the  edge  of 
the  abysmal  doubt?  It  is  true.  The  very  fact 
that  they  run  their  course  and  reach  an  end,  is 
proof  that  God  yet  reigns  in  the  world  He  has  made. 
When  faith  is  feeble  and  the  sight  dim,  then  we  can 
turn  to’ the  confident  trust  in  God  that  sustained  our 
Lord  in  His  most  difficult  days.  For  when  His 
hand  is  hidden,  and  we  cannot  trace  His  ways  in 
the  world,  there  is  always  the  memory  of  our 
Master  to  reassure  the  soul  by  His  word,  “He  that 
hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father.”  As  Jesus 
yearned  with  unutterable  tenderness  over  Jerusalem, 
the  heart  of  the  Father  yearns  over  His  children. 
They  are  dear  to  Him.  That  does  not  mean  that  we 
never  have  doubts  about  the  matter.  One  remem¬ 
bers  walking  along  the  seashore  one  winter  day.  A 
stiff  wind  was  blowing,  and  the  waters,  angry  and 
muddied  near  at  hand,  but  flecked  with  foam  farther 
out,  were  dashing  themselves  in  impotent  fury  at 
one’s  feet.  It  was  an  hour  or  so  after  high-water, 
and  all  along  the  shore  there  was  a  line  of  sea¬ 
weed  and  driftwood,  marking  where  the  waters  had 
reached.  Then  as  one  looked  at  all  this  refuse  of 
the  deep  and  saw  a  fragment  from  a  vessel  that  had 
been  damaged  by  the  violence  of  the  sea,  one  asked, 
Is  this  a  parable  of  human  life?  Perhaps  we  are 
but  carried  hither  and  thither  by  the  seas  of  circum¬ 
stance,  then  flung  up  upon  the  strand  of  Time  only 
to  be  carried  out  again  later  into  that  whirling  waste 


1 


The  Problem  of  Frovidence  55 

of  waters,  and  lost  to  sight  for  ever.  Are  we  the 
sport  of  Fate  or  of  blind  Circumstance?  To  the 
pessimist,  to  the  determinist,  to  the  scep^tical,  this 
may  seem  true,  but  to  the  Christian,  never!  He 
is  in  the  pledged  personal  care  of  his  Father  in 
whose  hands  are  the  waters  themselves.  Thus  life 
is  safe,  for  Providence  is  not  only  possible,  it  is 
proved.  Heber  is  not  often  quoted  now,  yet  he  is 
near  the  heart  of  things  when  he  says : 

“There  is  an  arm  that  never  tires 
When  human  strength  gives  way; 

There  is  a  love  that  never  fails 
When  earthly  loves  decay.” 

For  God  desires  the  good  of  His  children  above 
everything,  and  though  the  eternal  purpose  may 
be  sometimes  hard  to  perceive,  it  is  there,  mani¬ 
fested  in  what  we  rightly  call  the  providences  of  life. 

Great  and  good,  God  is  also  gracious.  With  the 
generosity  of  the  father-heart,  the  gentleness  of  the 
mother-heart.  He  tends  His  children.  But  let  us 
remember  that  man  is  still  God’s  child.  This  is 
where  we  often  make  a  mistake.  We  have  the  no¬ 
tion  that  when  he  has  come  to  man’s  estate,  he 
has  also  reached  spiritual  maturity.  That  is  not 
always  so.  God  has  still  to  deal  with  him  as  with 
a  child  of  limited  knowledge,  and  not  infrequently 
of  the  arrogance  that  is  born  of  partial  knowledge. 
So  he  is  set  in  the  school  of  affliction  to  learn  some 
of  life’s  needful  lessons.  He  is  disciplined  that  he 
may  be  developed  on  his  better  side.  And  while 
he  may  resent  the  course  adopted,  who  is  man  to  say 
that  he  knows  better  than  the  Father  of  his  spirit? 

It  will  not  do  to  belittle  man’s  worth.  It  will 


56  Problems  that  Ferplex 

not  even  suffice  to  quote  the  saying  of  the  Psalmist, 
“What  is  man  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  Him?” 
The  fact  is,  God  has  made  man  little  lower  than 
the  angels;  He  has  crowned  him  with  glory  and 
honour  in  His  divine  purpose,  and  thus  to  make 
man  lit  for  his  high  estate  the  painful  experiences 
of  life  must  be  bravely  and  trustfully  endured.  So 
great  a  value  has  been  set  on  man,  that  though  the 
Creator  has  indeed  called  a  wonderful  world  into 
being,  and  though  the  work  of  His  hands  is  vast, 
the  child  of  His  heart  i*s  dearer  than  all  else.  As 
Lord  Roberts  is  said  to  have  been  found  by  an 
orderly  during  the  South  African  war  with  a  Boer 
child  upon  his  knee  teaching  it  the  alphabet,  so  God 
is  great  enough  and  gracious  enough  to  stoop  to 
the  level  of  the  lowliest  of  His  children.  As  the 
true  father,  no  matter  how  brilliant  the  position 
he  fills,  nor  how  important  the  work  he  is  doing, 
will  make  time  to  interest  himself  in  his  little  child, 
gladly  guiding  the  tiny  feet  across  the  nursery  floor, 
or  telling  it  stories  in  the  firelight  that  its  happiness 
may  be  complete  and  its  mind  enriched,  so  must  the 
Heavenly  Father  interest  Himself  in  the  daily  do¬ 
ings  and  even  in  the  trivial  troubles  of  every  child 
of  His  mighty  heart. 

The  Idea  of  Providence  both  Encourages 

AND  Explains 

Every  detail  of  man’s  life  is  known  to  God. 
To  Him  nothing  that  troubles  the  human  heart 
can  be  trivial,  and  as  we  turn  the  leaves  of  life 
we  are  compelled  to  admit,  as  Joseph  did,  that 
much  that  has  seemed  to  be  evil  has  really  been 


The  Problem  of  Providence  57 

fraught  with  highest  good.  Many  can  testify  to 
this  even  as  Browning; 

“Let  one  more  attest, 

I  have  seen  God’s  hand  through  a  lifetime; 

All’s  been  for  best.” 

Certainly  an  overruling  Providence  is  needed  to 
explain  some  of  our  experiences.  Do  you  remem¬ 
ber  how  you  were  once  at  the  parting  of  the  ways, 
wondering  which  was  the  best  course  to  take,  or 
weighing  the  pros  and  cons  of  some  purposed 
course?  Then  hardly  knowing  why  or  how,  you 
were  impelled  to  decide.  You  had  not  breathed 
a  word  of  it  to  anyone  when  you  met  a  friend  who 
seemed  to  have  read  your  inmost  thoughts.  Or, 
it  may  be,  following  an  impulse  that  you  did  not  un¬ 
derstand,  you  moved  resolutely  toward  the  good. 
Only  now  after  the  lapse  of  time,  you  can  realise 
how  much  depended  on  that  decision  and  how 
much  has  resulted  therefrom.  It  is  all  very  strange. 
But  just  as  it  was  with  Joseph,  some  of  even  the 
tragic  happenings  of  life  have  been  the  turning-point 
or  the  preparation  for  ultimate  good  that  flowing 
first  to  us  has  brought  blessing  to  countless  others. 

Thus  we  can  look  the  perplexities  of  this  problem 
in  the  face  and  confidently  affirm  that  if  God  is 
great.  He  is  great  enough  to  concern  Himself  with 
the  smallest  thing  that  affects  His  children’s  wel¬ 
fare;  if  He  is  good,  then  He  must  be  bound  up 
with  the  good  of  those  whom  He  has  called  into 
being;  if  He  is  gracious,  then  all  His  ways,  though 
they  may  sometimes  be  shrouded  in  mystery,  will 
one  day  be  seen  bright  and  clear  in  the  full  light 
of  eternity  ever  tending  to  blessedness  for  man- 


58  Problems  that  Perplex 

kind.  Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that,  father-like, 
some  of  His  blessings  will  come  as  a  surprise.  We 
have  many  a  time  as  children  been  gladdened  with 
some  unexpected  good,  and  even  if  the  surprise 
has  not  come  at  night,  the  morning  will  reveal  it. 
Those  who  have  passed  from  us  into  the  presence 
of  the  All-Good,  their  hands  lifting  the  filmy  veil 
that  hides  so  much  from  the  tear-dimmed  eyes  of 
earth,  must  have  been  delighted  beyond  measure 
at  the  glories  prepared  for  them,  and  could  they 
but  speak  to  us,  they  would  tell  how  life’s  tears 
and  trials  had  been  but  the  preparation  for  the 
good  they  now  enjoy,  and  how  wonderful  the  Provi¬ 
dence  that  is  now  vindicated  before  their  astonished 
eyes.  But  we  can  enter  into  something  of  the 
blessedness  that  is  theirs.  We  can  trace  as  well  as 
trust  the  good  hand  that  has  been  upon  us,  for  like 
that  Hebrew  who  felt  that  he  was  far  from  home 
and  yet  near  to  God,  the  gladness  of  thus  committing 
our  way  unto  the  Lord  may  be  ours.  Already  it  is 
true 

“That  more  and  more  a  Providence 
Of  love  is  understood, 

Making  the  springs  of  time  and  sense 
Sweet  with  eternal  good.” 

Apparent  evils  can  be  conquered  by  this  faith. 
Though  they  may  be  permitted,  they  are  con¬ 
trolled  by  the  hand  of  God.  To  know  this  is  to 
be  helped  to  a  more  serene  state  of  soul,  a  quieter 
frame  of  mind  in  which  the  soul  is  free  to  do  the 
Father’s  will  without  chafing  or  fret.  There  is  a 
famous  picture  in  the  Louvre  in  Paris,  from  the 
brush  of  Raphael.  It  depicts  the  maiden-saint  Mar- 


The  Problem  of  Providence  59 

garet  on  a  lonely  way  shrouded  with  gloom.  Right 
before  her  is  a  monster  with  wrathful  eyes  and 
gleaming  teeth,  ready  to  devour  her.  But  cross 
in  hand,  she  is  undismayed  as  she  steps  over  the 
form  of  the  beast,  for  God  has  given  her  the  as¬ 
surance  that  nothing  can  separate  her  from  His 
love.  Power  to  overcome  is  hers. 

So  the  Christian  may  go  through  life  with  stout 
heart  and  steady  step,  assured  that  though  the 
clouds  hang  dark  athwart  the  sky,  they  cannot  ex¬ 
tinguish  the  sun,  though  the  sorrows  and  puzzling 
anxieties  of  life  flood  his  soul,  they  cannot  drown 
hope.  His  cares  are  God’s,  for  he  is  God’s  care, 
and  so,  come  rough,  come  smooth,  come  pain  or 
pleasure,  there  is  a  hand  that  will  guide,  an  arm 
that  will  sustain.  Eventually  he  will  be  led  forth 
to  the  place  where  the  chastisements  of  life  will 
appear  as  God’s  angelic  ministrants,  and  the  very 
obstacles  that  have  bestrewn  his  way  will  be  found 
to  have  been  but  stepping-stones  leading  to  the 
heights  on  which  the  redeemed  for  ever  walk  in 
fellowship  with  their  God.  “There’s  a  Divinity 
that  shapes  our  ends,”  and  the  legend  of  the  Mo¬ 
hammedan  saint,  Rabia,  will  help  us  to  discern  it. 
She  was  visited  in  a  time  of  grievous  illness  by  two 
holy  men  who,  after  the  manner  of  Job’s  friends, 
came  to  offer  her  consolation.  One  of  them  said,^ 
“Whose  prayer  is  pure,  God’s  chastisements  en¬ 
dure.”  The  other  adding,  “He  who  loves  his  Mas¬ 
ter’s  choice  will  in  chastisement  rejoice.”  Rabia  saw 
something  of  the  superficiality  of  these  sentiments 
coming  from  such  lips,  and  with  fine  faith  and 
truest  resignation  to  the  hand  that,  though  it  smites 
loves  to  heal,  replied,  “O  men  of  grace,  he  who  sees 


6o  Problems  that  Perplex 

his  Master’s  face,  will  not  in  his  prayer  recall 
that  he  is  chastised  at  all.”  Such  an  attitude  and 
such  trust  will  disperse  the  mists  of  perplexity  that 
have  veiled  the  face  of  the  Almighty,  and  though 
the  valley  be  filled  with  vapours,  the  guiding  light 
shall  lead  us  to  the  heights  of  holiness  and  peace. 


IV 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  DIVINE 
INDIFFERENCE 

The  apparent  indifference  of  God  when  evil  is 
rampant  in  the  earth  has  always  given  rise  to 
a  certain  amount  of  perplexity.  Man  has  seen 
ruin  threatening  all  he  holds  dear.  He  sees  some 
enemy  of  the  race  ravaging  the  fair  earth.  He 
feels  himself  powerless  to  withstand  the  onslaughts 
of  tyrannous  overlords  who  usurp  the  sovereignty 
of  right  and  drag  the  innocent  at  their  chariot 
wheels.  Then  he  calls  to  the  Lord  of  Heaven  to 
vindicate  the  right.  But  from  the  distant  skies 
there  is  no  response,  and  as  though  to  mock  his 
faith,  memories  of  past  deliverances  wrought  for 
his  fathers  rise  like  spectres  from  the  ruined  clois¬ 
ters  of  the  past.  In  days  gone  by,  the  Lord  made 
bare  Flis  holy  arm  in  the  eyes  of  the  nations.  Then, 
as  when  Elijah  called  upon  Him  at  Carmel,  there 
was  an  answer  and  the  right  emerged  triumphant. 
But  now  the  ear  of  the  Eternal  seems  heavy  or  His 
heart  indifferent,  and  man  cries  out  in  bitterness 
of  soul,  “Oh  that  Thou  wouldst  rend  the  heavens, 
that  Thou  wouldst  come  down.” 

Thus  cried  one  of  the  old  Hebrew  prophets,  a 
sensitive  soul,  that  saw  the  havoc  the  enemy  had 
wrought  in  the  land  he  loved,  the  apparent  en- 

6i 


62  Problems  that  Perplex 

thronement  of  evil  and  the  worsting  of  the  good, 
and  he  felt  that  the  honour  of  God  was  in  question. 

There  are  Good  Reasons  why  God 
SHOULD  Interfere 

Time  had  been  telling  on  the  nerves  of  the 
prophet.  He  was  no  less  human  than  we,  and 
even  the  most  casual  reader  of  Hebrew  history 
can  see  why  this  man  felt  so  strongly  the  inactivity 
of  God.  Evil  was  triumphant.  The  Chaldean  con¬ 
quest  was  complete.  The  land  of  his  fathers  was 
depopulated.  Towns  and  villages  had  been  de¬ 
stroyed  so  that  the  landscape  that  was  once  pleasing 
to  the  eye  was  now  blotched  and  stained  with  the 
marks  of  ruthless  destruction.  The  stately  towers 
and  shapely  domes  of  the  holy  city  which  had  once 
shone  in  the  golden  glow  of  the  setting  sun,  touched 
by  its  magic  into  radiant  hues  of  jasper  and  gold, 
or  silhouetted  after  dark  against  the  deep  blue  of 
the  Syrian  sky,  were  gone.  Rent  and  ruined  lay 
the  walls  that  had  once  been  the  very  symbol  of 
strength  and  stability,  and  the  sacred  places  of 
Jerusalem  were  trodden  by  the  defiling  feet  of  the 
alien.  Despair  like  a  pall  rested  on  the  prophet’s 
spirit. 

We  can  understand  something  of  his  mood. 
Yet  it  is  not  the  material  ruin  that  presents  the 
gravest  problem  to  his  mind.  It  is  the  moral  as¬ 
pect  of  it  all.  He  had  been  led  to  believe  that 
Jerusalem  was  dear  to  Jehovah  as  the  apple  of  His 
eye.  He  had  taught  it  to  his  fellows,  assuring 
them  that  God  was  the  champion  of  righteousness, 
and  that  wickedness  could  never  prevail.  Yet  ap- 


Problem  of  the  Divine  Indifference  63 

parently  evil  had  been  permitted  to  run  riot  through 
the  earth  that  God  had  made,  and  He  was  heedless 
of  man’s  protest.  That  is  why  he  expresses  him¬ 
self  with  such  vehemence,  and  in  doing  so  he  is 
the  spokesman  of  many,  even  of  this  modern  world, 
whose  faith  is  often  strained  to  breaking-point.  Put 
to  shame  before  their  enemies,  they  ask,  not  with 
bitterness  so  much  as  with  desire  to  see  the  right 
vindicated,  why  does  not  God  do  something? 

Another  rea^son  why  we  long  for  the  active  in¬ 
tervention  of  the  Almighty  is  the  success  of  the 
^If-seeking.  It  would  seem  that  God  could  so 
easily  stay  the  hand  of  the  wicked  and  frustrate 
the  plans  of  those  who  work  such  havoc  in  the 
world.  Yet  He  does  nothing!  They  stand  in 
direct  defiance  of  everything  for  which  the  name 
and  character  of  God  are  the  guarantee,  and  with 
impunity  they  flout  His  authority.  We  know — or 
think  we  do — what  we  would  do  had  we  the  su¬ 
preme  power  in  the  universe.  Can  it  be  that  God 
is  not  omnipotent? 

Why  should  men  plunge  the  whole  world  into 
misery?  Why  should  selfish  ambition,  as  it  has 
done  over  and  over  again  in  the  pages  of  history, 
seek  to  be  supreme  and  bestriding  the  world  like  a 
Colossus,  be  allowed  to  shed  innocent  blood  in  its 
effort  to  set  up  its  kingdom  of  tyranny?  Surely 
that  is  opposed  to  Him  who  came  to  set  up  His 
kingdom  of  love  and  light,  of  peace  and  brother¬ 
hood.  And  why  should  those  who  degrade  human¬ 
ity  by  their  inhuman  cruelty,  set  at  nought  the  Ruler 
of  the  universe?  Thes^  are  some  of  the  questions 
that  men  are  asking.  Nor  do  they  cover  the  whole 
ground. 


64  Problems  that  Perplex 

Similar  questions  face  the  thoughtful  as  they . 
look  at  the  social  conditions  of  our  times.  They 
have  seen  the  strong  oppress  the  weak.  Nameless 
multitudes  have  been  trodden  underfoot  that  others 
might  mount  on  their  prostrate  forms  to  personal 
aggrandisement  and  power.  Your  sweated  hireling, 
your  hopeless  slum-dweller,  and  the  ill-clad  waifs 
of  the  street,  prove  the  assertion.  Many  a  time  have 
we  seen  names  that  have  been  kept  for  long  years 
without  a  stain  dragged  through  the  mire  by 
prodigals  whose  one  thought  has  been  their  own 
unholy  pleasure. 

It  is  not  enough  to  explain  away  the  terrible 
wrongs  with  which  human  life  is  burdened  by 
referring  them  all  to  human  selfishness  or  unbridled 
ambition.  It  would  be  grave  enough  were  the 
sinner  to  go  his  evil  way  without  affecting  others. 
But  as  we  know  only  too  well,  the  innocent  are 
drawn  into  the  maelstrom  of  misery  that  man  has 
made.  Although  we  know  the  Divine  heart  is  just, 
we  cannot  but  feel  that  it  is  indifferent  to  the  suf¬ 
fering  that  sin  causes. 

Some  men  have  waxed  hysterical  about  the  ruin 
wrought  among  stately  buildings  and  glorious 
cathedrals.  But  what  of  the  peaceful  homes  of 
non-combatants  that  have  fallen  victim  to  the  fury 
of  incendiaries?  What  of  people  driven  from  their 
homes  by  the  terrors  of  war  to  fall  faint  or  dying 
by  the  roadside  or  to  seek  refuge,  homeless  and 
penniless,  in  some  distant  town?  And  to  all  that, 
what  of  the  flower  of  earth’s  manhood,  cut  down 
by  the  ruthless  scythe  of  the  aggressor,  what  of 
the  anxious  and  desolate  hearts  they  have  left  be¬ 
hind  them?  The  crazy  Jingo  sings  about  glorious 


Problem  of  the  Divine  Indifference 


war.  The  crafty  diplomat  has  lied  so  that  even 
the  wisest  have  been  deceived.  But  war  has  left 
its  foul  trail  across  the  earth  like  the  fabled  dragon 
of  the  slime. 

All  this  simply  emphasises  the  fact  that  sin  brings 
suffering,  and  the  effects  of  evil  are  so  far-reaching 
that  they  pass  to  the  innocent  as  well  as  to  the 
wrongdoer.  But  though  life  is  so  intertwined,  we 
wish  that  in  some  way  God  would  interfere,  so  that 
the  miseries  of  mankind  might  be  averted,  and  the 
innocent  be  spared  some  of  the  sufferings  that  now 
bring  the  soul  to  the  brink  of  despair.  His  honour 
is  at  stake,  for  there  are  some  who  continually  assail 
the  righteous  with  the  question,  “Where  is  thy 
God?”  If  a  man  loses  his  good  name  it  means 
much;  but  if  our  Heavenly  Father  should  lose  His 
good  name,  what  remains?  Shakespeare,  in  a 
memorable  passage,  reminds  us: 


“Good  name  in  man  and  woman,  dear  my  lord, 
Is  the  immediate  jewel  of  their  souls  .  .  . 

He  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name 
Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him, 

And  makes  me  poor  indeed.” 


Why  then  should  our  Maker  seem  so  indifferent 
to  the  reflection  cast  upon  Him  by  His  supposed 
inactivity?  When  some  great  tragedy  is  enacted 
on  the  stage  of  history.  He  cannot  be  seen.  He 
did  not  interfere  when  Jerusalem  was  carried  by 
storm  by  the  Babylonian  king.  He  did  nothing  to 
deflect  the  bullet  of  the  assassin  that  laid  Lincoln 
low  just  when  his  country  needed  him  most.  Nor 
did  He  turn  that  torpedo  from  its  course  that  sank 
the  ocean  mammoth  at  such  cost  to  human  life. 


66  Problems  that  Perplex 

“Why  did  He  not  do  so?’^  asked  an  educated  man 
of  us.  “I  would  have  done  it  if  I  had  been  able, 
and  so  would  you.  If  God  is  omnipotent,  then  why 
did  He  not  avert  such  a  disaster?” 

The  question  is  not  unanswerable;  it  is  not  even 
as  difficult  as  it  may  look.  But  we  can  at  least  ask 
one  as  difficult:  Why  did  not  God  intervene  when 
His  well-beloved  Son  who  had  done  nothing  but 
good,  agonised  in  the  Garden,  or  when  He  was^ 
left  by  His  friends  to  the  mercy  of  Pilate’s  brutal 
soldiery  and  the  cruelty  of  His  crucifiers?  We  speak 
of  the  innocent  suffering — who  was  as  innocent  as 
He?  Yet  God,  the  righteous  God,  permitted  it! 
How  mysterious  is  the  Divine  indifference.  Surely 
the  reasons  we  have  cited  should  warrant  His  in¬ 
tervention. 

There  are  Good  Reasons  why  God 
CANNOT  Interfere 

So  far  we  have  put  the  position  on  the  average 
man  who  cannot  understand  why  the  Omnipotent 
remains  inactive.  But  when  we  come  to  think  more 
carefully  we  see  that  though  in  the  true  sense  God 
is  omnipotent.  He  has  also  a  limit  to  Himself  in 
His  creation.  As  Dr.  Ballard  puts  it  with  much 
cogency,  “God  is  not  the  all  so  long  as  I  am  I,  for 
God  is  not  I,  any  more  than  I  am  God.”  To  un¬ 
derstand  this  is  to  understand  why  the  prophet’s 
prayer  for  the  visible  intervention  of  God  could  not 
be  answered,  and  why  our  suggested  ways  by  wffiich'^ 
the  Divine  Father  might  show  His  interest  in  man’s  ^ 
affairs  are  not  practicable.  For  in  making  man  God 
set  a  bound  to  His  own  power,  and  so  dear  is  His  j 


Problem  of  the  Divine  Indifference  67 

purpose  to  His  heart,  that,  if  need  be.  He  is  willing 
to  stand  aside  till  that  purpose  be  complete. 

God  gave  man  liberty  to  exercise  his  power  of 
freewill,  and  within  limits  man  can  choose  as  his 
own  desires  determine.  If  he  would  heed  the 
counsels  of  God  and  follow  the  promptings  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  then  all  would  be  well.  There  would 
be  progress  to  true  sonship.  There  would  be  not 
only  an  intelligent  grasp  of  God’s  will  for  the 
world,  but  also  the  capacity  to  see  that  man’s  good 
centres  in  that  will.  For  only  by  conformity  to  that 
purpose  can  man  reach  his  highest  development  of 
soul.  Yet  it  is  equally  plain  that  if  man  is  thus 
free  to  choose  the  good,  he  must  be  free  to  choose 
the  evil;  if  he  is  able  to  respond  to  the  highest  he 
must  also  be  free  to  reject  its  appeal.  You  cannot 
have  the  one  without  the  other.  So  when  Huxley 
speaks  about  being  made  to  do  right,  he  is  uncon¬ 
sciously  robbing  right  of  all  moral  value.  “I  pro¬ 
test,”  he  says,  “that  if  some  Power  would  agree 
to  make  me  always  think  what  is  true  and  do  what 
is  right  on  condition  of  being  turned  into  a  sort 
of  clock  and  wound  up  every  morning,  I  should 
instantly  close  with  the  offer.”  But  that  would  not 
be  a  man,  as  the  great  Creator  understands  the 
term;  it  would  be  an  automaton. 

A  ship  meant  to  cleave  the  waters  and  pass  from 
port  to  port  bearing  her  costly  cargo,  must  first 
be  free.  Her  moorings  must  be  cast  off,  and  she 
must  turn  to  the  open  sea  if  she  is  to  fulfil  her 
destiny,  and  while  careful  navigation  will  ensure 
a  successful  voyage,  carelessness  may  mean  disaster. 
The  shipowner  has  to  risk  that.  He  places  the 
master  in  command  of  his  vessel,  and  he  must  leave 


68  Problems  that  Perplex 

him  absolutely  free,  within  certain  limits,  to  navi¬ 
gate  the  ship  as  he  thinks  best. 

The  same  thing  is  true  of  the  human  soul.  We 
know  that  the  boy  who  is  tied  to  his  mother’s  apron¬ 
string  will  never  make  his  way  in  the  world.  But 
once  free,  there  is  a  chance  for  him  to  rise.  Of 
course,  there  is  also  a  chance  that  he  will  fall.  No 
matter  how  carefully  he  has  been  brought  up,  or 
how  love  and  thought  have  Been  lavished  on  him, 
there  is  always  the  possibility  of  shipwreck,  and 
the  parent’s  heart  knows  what  apprehension  and 
fears  the  fact  of  freedom  brings  with  it.  But  it 
is  the  only  way  that  our  boys  can  become  men.  It 
is  the  only  way  that  God  can  make  morally  mature 
souls.  Freewill  is  essential  to  moral  manhood,  and 
God  cannot  interfere  with  that  without  thwarting 
His  own  purpose. 

But  while  we  may  admit  the  analogy  between  the 
human  parent  and  the  divine,  we  may  think  that 
God  should  be  able  to  do  more  for  His  children 
than  man  can.  We  have  a  feeling  that  even  where  a 
young  man’s  father  may  be  impotent,  God  cannot  be. 
We  do  not  always  remember  that  while  God  can 
do  and  does  more  than  any  human  father,  even  He 
is  relatively  helpless  to  compel  the  disobedient.  Nay, 
the  whole  thing  is  contradictory,  for  if  God  were 
to  compel  the  humar^  will  then  freedom  would 
cease  to  exist,  and  man  would  cease  to  be  man. 

How  then  is  it  possible  for  God  to  adopt  a  sug¬ 
gestion  like  that  made  by  Huxley?  He  could  not 
make  man  free  to  choose  only  the  good.  To  make 
him  choose  anything  would  be  to  remove  choice 
altogether,  and  yet  that  is  just  how  some  men  think 
God  ought  to  act;  while  man  may  be  free  to  walk 


Problem  of  the  Divine  Indifference  69 

the  ways  of  right,  the  other  ways  ought  to  be  so 
well  fenced  with  barbed  wire  that  it  would  be  physic 
cally  impossible  for  anyone  to  enter  them. 

If  man  is  to  be  man  and  not -a  mere  automaton, 
then  choice  of  the  good  must  be  wholly  voluntary, 
otherwise  there  is  little  moral  value  attached  to  it. 
Our  goodness  is  of  worth  only  when  we  choose  the 
good  for  its  own  sake  and  in  conformity  with  the 
will  of  God.  When  we  are  restrained  by  con¬ 
vention  or  by  fear  of  the  law,  we  are  not  good  in 
the  true  sense.  For  our  Lord  went  so  far  as  to 
say  that  some  of  the  most  loathsome  sins  might 
be  committed  in  the  heart  without  the  deed  actually 
having  taken  place.  Sir  Oliver  Lodge  is  right  when 
he  defines  sin  as  “The  deliberate  and  wilful  act  of 
a  free  agent  who  sees  the  better  and  chooses  the 
worse,  and  thereby  acts  injuriously  to  himself  and 
others.  The  root  sin  is  selfishness,  whereby  need¬ 
less  trouble  and  pain  are  inflicted  on  others.” 

If  man  is  to  reach  the  goal  of  sonship  with  God, 
then  he  must  be  free,  but  as  we  have  said,  if  he 
is  free,  then  he  is  free  to  choose  good  or  evil, 
darkness  or  light.  If  he  chooses  the  good,  then 
there  is  progress  and  peace;  if  evil,  then  there  is 
misery  not  only  for  the  wrongdoer  but  also  for 
those  who  come  within  the  circle  of  his  life,  and 
It  follows  that  unless  God  is  to  frustrate  His 
original  purpose.  He  must  wait  till  the  time  for 
action  has  arrived.  Christ  could  not  do  many 
mighty  works  in  one  place  because  of  its  unbelief, 
and  in  a  similar  way,  God  is  relatively  powerless. 
But  while  that  is  so,  it  does  not  follow  that  God 
is  inactive.  He  is  always  assisting  His  children 
when  they  will  permit  Him  to  do  so.  He  guides 


70  Problems  that  Perplex 

those  who  ask  for  guidance,  and  “He  giveth  power 
to  the  faint,  and  to  them  that  have  no  might  He 
increaseth  strength.”  More  than  that,  God  be¬ 
came  manifest  in  the  flesh  so  that  man  might  not 
only  see  the  glory  of  goodness,  but  what  is  equally 
important,  the  possibility  of  living  in  accordance 
with  the  divine  direction.  In  Jesus  Christ  the  Word 
became  flesh  and  dwelt  among  us.  He  lived  our 
life.  He  shouldered  our  common  load.  He  was 
tempted  and  tried  as  every  son  of  man,  and  yet 
He  never  lost  heart  nor  fell  before  the  assaults  of 
evil.  To  all  this  we  must  add  the  ever-present  Spirit 
of  God  immanent  in  the  world.  No  man  need  live 
without  the  cheer  and  stimulating  sense  of  the  di¬ 
vine  presence.  None  falls  into  sin  without  the  gen¬ 
tle  rebuke  of  the  inner  monitor  bidding  him  beware 
and  repent  that  he  may  be  restored.  Light  has 
been  given  to  all  men  though  heedlessly  they  forget 
the  lamp  of  faith  and  walk  in  gloomy  ways  of  their 
own  choosing.  The  Guide  stands  there  ready  to 
assist  the  pilgrim  in  his  ascent,  and  He  is  girt  with 
the  rope  that  is  to  communicate  His  strength  and 
sure-footedness  to  the  most  timid  soul  that  ever 
essayed  the  height.  That  is  another  way  in  which 
the  Divine  activity  is  manifested.  We  may  put  it 
in  still  another  manner.  The  Heavenly  Father,  like 
the  true  earthly  parent,  counsels  His  sons  as  they 
go  out  into  the  world  to  win  their  way.  But  alas ! 
many  a  time  His  words  fall  on  unheeding  ears.  It 
is  only  when  some  grievous  mistake  has  marred  our 
peace  of  mind  that  we  know  that  He  knew  better 
than  we.  That  is  why  we  come  to  sing  with  such 
feeling: 


Froblem  of  the  Divine  Indifference  71 

“I  was  not  ever  thus  nor  prayed  that  Thou 
Shouldst  lead  me  on; 

I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path ;  but  now 
Lead  Thou  me  on!” 

For  though  we  may  spurn  the  counsels  of  the  good 
Father,  He  ever  surrounds  us  with  His  influence, 
softening  the  stubborn  and  inspiring  hope  in  the 
breast  of  the  fallen.  As  the  morning  sun  pen¬ 
etrates  the  tiniest  chink  in  the  shuttered  window, 
so  the  grace  of  the  good  Father  enters  the  hearts 
even  of  the  erring  sons  of  men. 

It  is  true  that  God  may  take  another  line.  He 
may  not  actively  interfere  when  His  laws  are 
broken,  because  those  laws  teach  their  own  lesson. 
A  mother  is  teaching  her  child  to  walk;  and  for 
your  especial  benefit,  it  is  going  to  essay  the  great 
adventure  of  crossing  the  room.  But  little  per¬ 
versity,  anxious  to  show  what  it  can  do,  thrusts 
aside  the  arms  that  support  it,  and  after  a  few 
steps  it  crashes  to  the  floor  and  dissolves  into  tears. 
It  is  a  sad  sight,  but  the  child  has  to  learn  to  stand 
alone.  And  by  its  mistakes  and  mishaps  it  will 
learn. 

A  father  looks  over  his  boy’s  shoulder  as  he  does 
his  home  work.  But  the  boy  is  careless,  thinking 
of  the  game  that  is  far  more  attractive  than 
arithmetic,  and  as  he  goes  on,  mistakes  are  inevita¬ 
ble.  He  will  persist  that  6  +  4— H)  but  the 
father  lets  him  go  on  till  the  sum  is  finished  and 
the  answer  is — wrong.  It  may  be  the  best  way  of 
letting  the  boy  learn.  Upstairs  the  others  are  at 
play.  One  is  continually  unfair  or  quarrelsome,  and 
the  parent  is  grieved  beyond  measure  at  the  foolish 
and  unworthy  spirit  displayed.  He  could  intervene, 


72  Problems  that  Perplex 

but  would  it  be  the  wisest  course?  It  may  be  best 
that  while  the  others  learn  self-control  and  see  the 
ugliness  of  sin,  the  offender  should  also  learn  his 
lesson  at  the  hands  of  his  playmates. 

It  Is  thus  that  God  sometimes  allows  evils  to 
persist,  not  that  He  Is  Indifferent,  but  because  He 
puts  the  means  of  setting  them  right  into  our  hands. 
The  evil-doer  Is  sometimes  corrected  by  the  hand 
of  the  righteous  if  not  by  the  active  Interposition 
of  God  Himself,  and  all  the  time  His  Spirit  Is 
present  In  the  world  while  the  day  of  mercy  lasts,  to 
woo  it  from  its  evil  ways. 

There  are  Good  Reasons  for  Believing 
THAT  God  does  Interfere 

God  may  be  limited  by  His  creative  activities  as 
we  have  said,  but  that  Is  only  part  of  the  truth. 
He  Is  as  jealous  of  His  honour  as  we  are,  and 
though  His  ways  may  be  hidden  from  the  common 
eye.  His  presence  can  be  plainly  discerned.  We 
cannot  see  the  wind  when  it  blows,  but  we  see  the 
great  arms  of  the  trees  sway  in  the  air,  and  the 
waters  of  the  sea  moved  by  its  rude  breath.  So 
we  can  see  God’s  goings  in  the  world.  He  has  His 
instruments,  and  imperfect  though  they  may  be, 
He  yet  uses  them  to  carry  forward  His  royal  pur¬ 
pose.  There  is  no  need  for  Him,  to  rend  the 
heavens  and  come  down.  He  is  ever  present  on 
the  battlefields  of  earth,  fighting  by  the  side  of  His 
servants  as  they  take  up  the  cause  of  the  right. 
He  is  here  ministering  to  the  world’s  needs,  and 
directing  Its  mighty  movements,  though  none  may 
see  the  Hand  behind  the  throne.  This  very  prophet 


Frohlem  of  the  Divine  Indifference  73 

who  implored  the  Divine  monarch  to  reveal  His. 
power  afterwards  admitted  that  Cyrus,  the  heathen 
king,  was  actually  the  agent  of  Jehovah,  carrying 
out  the  divine  behests.  For  in  the  edict  that  set 
the  enslaved  people  of  Israel  free  and  bade  the  exile 
return  to  the  land  of  his  fathers,  there  was  the  hand 
of  God  Himself. 

We  do  not  believe  in  blind  chance  or  a  fickle  Fate 
guiding  the  events  of  man’s  life,  but  in  the  hand  of 
the  ever-present  God.  Was  it  mere  chance,  asks 
Talmage,  that  a  farmer’s  boy  should  show  Bliicher 
a  short  cut  that  enabled  him  to  get  his  forces  to  the 
field  of  Waterloo  just  at  the  critical  moment,  and 
thus  win  the  day?  Was  it  mere  chance  that  when 
the  Protestants  were  besieged  in  Bezors  a  drunken 
soldier  should  have  seized  a  bell  that  aroused  the 
sleeping  town  and  saved  it  from  massacre?  The 
Divine  hand  is  just  as  plainly  seen  in  the  preparation 
for  our  Saviour’s  coming.  The  conquests  of  Rome 
and  her  wonderful  organization,  the  culture  of 
Greece  and  her  world-known  language,  the  genius  of 
the  Jewish  people  for  religion,  were  all  used  as 
means  to  an  end :  the  inauguration  of  the  Messiah’s 
kingdom. 

The  church  that  Christ  called  into  being  has 
played  no  small  part  as  the  vehicle  of  the  divine 
power.  It  is  quite  a  commonplace  now  for  men  to 
say  that  the  church  has  failed.  We  have  heard  it 
many  a  time  and  oft.  If  cheap  cynicism  wants  to 
score,  the  church  is  a  target  big  enough  not  to  miss 
no  matter  how  small  its  skill  with  the  bow  of  criti¬ 
cism.  But  in  fairness  let  it  be  said  that  through 
the  trials  which  are  inseparable  from  the  Christian 
life,  in  every  movement  towards  uplifting  the  race 


74  Problems  that  Perplex 

and  remedying  old  abuses,  the  church  has  brought 
comfort  and  power,  inspiration  and  help  to  countless 
jsouls.  It  has  nerved  manhood  to  make  sacrifices 
/before  which  the  world  stood  amazed;  it  has  en- 
jabled  the  womanhood  to  suffer  and  serve  with  a 
icourage  and  fortitude  that  were  sublime.  What  is 
it  but  proof  that  the  Spirit  of  God  has  been  ever¬ 
present  and  ever-active  in  the  world?  Christ  is  the 
source  and  spring  of  all  our  social  service.  He  it  is 
who  has  inspired  men  with  noble  self-sacrifice  akin 
to  His  own,  and  sharing  the  sorrows  of  His  people, 
bearing  the  heavier  end  of  every  cross.  He  has  been 
continually  at  work,  seeking  to  succour  the  strug¬ 
gling,  and  comfort  the  sorrowing. 

Thus  the  supposed  indifference  of  the  Deity  is 
seen  to  be  a  mistake.  Better  than  rending  the 
heavens  is  to  rend  the  veil  of  unbelief,  for 

“Thrice  blest  is  he  to  whom  is  given 
The  instinct  that  can  tell 
That  God  is  on  the  field,  when  He 
Is  most  invisible.” 

If  further  proof  were  necessary  to  show  the  un¬ 
failing  interest  of  God  in  all  that  pertains  to  the 
good  of  His  creatures,  we  have  simply  to  point  to 
the  changeless  purpose  that  moves  steadily  forward 
to  its  accomplishment.  Out  of  the  terrible  conflict 
between  the  North  and  South  that  raged  in  America 
came  the  freeing  of  the  slave,  for  the  fires  of  war 
consumed  the  fetters  that  held  him  fast.  And  a 
newer,  better  America  emerged  from  that  struggle. 
The  good  prevailed.  Out  of  the  agony  and  horrors 
of  the  European  struggle  a  nobler  day  is  dawning. 
We  have  seen  the  downfall  of  tyranny,  the  doom  of 


Problem  of  the  Divine  Indifference  75 

armaments,  the  discrediting  of  those  who  flouted 
the  authority  of  God,  and  nations  oft  separated  by 
suspicion  and  hate  are  still  to  be  welded  into  a  new 
brotherhood  in  which  the  things  that  Christ  died  to 
make  possible  for  man  shall  be  given  their  true  place. 
Love  and  liberty  shall  be  supreme.  The  tears  and 
blood  that  have  been  poured  out  shall  not  be  fruit¬ 
less.  Every  life  that  has  been  laid  down  shall  be 
as  one  of  the  piles  driven  deep  into  the  bed  of  the 
waters  to  make  a  foundation  for  a  city  even  fairer 
'  than  Venice,  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  from  the  suf- 
fering  shall  sympathy  and  nobler  service  be  born,  so 
'  that  the  world  may  be  blessed. 

Here  in  a  deserted  room  a  mother  sits.  The 
i;  whole  atmosphere  of  the  place  seems  out  of  keeping 
A  with  her  sombre  attire  and  her  dejected  air,  for  the 
walls  are  adorned  with  a  gaudy  frieze  depicting 

’V  John  Gilpin  on  his  famous  ride.  Hens  and  ducks 

scuttle  from  the  feet  of  his  fiery  steed,  while  aston- 
.  ished  farm-folk  in  comical  attitudes  complete  the 

’  picture  which  is  repeated  at  intervals  all  round  the 

room.  There  is  a  rocking-horse  without  a  rider,  a 
box  of  bricks  without  anyone  to  build,  a  drum  that 
^  once  almost  drove  the  household  crazy,  but  now  it 
is  silent,  and  the  forlorn  face  of  the  woman,  looking 
,  with  unseeing  eyes  into  the  cheerless  grate,  tells  its 
own  tale.  But  the  desolate  room  is  brightened  with 
.  the  soft  radiance  of  a  Presence.  A  voice  speaks  in 
,:-the  mother’s  ear,  “Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled! 

There  are  other  little  lives  that  need  the  love  that 
:  your  child  taught  you.  They  are  the  unwanted  and 
the  unloved,  and  only  now  is  your  heart  big  enough 
to  enfold  them.  Feed  My  lambs!”  And  that 
woman,  once  immersed  in  selfish  pleasure,  now  turns 


76  Problems  that  Perplex 

to  the  crowded  tenement  and  the  festering  slum  that 
she  may  mother  the  children  by  the  world  unwel¬ 
comed,  but  by  the  Christ  beloved.  It  is  thus  that 
God  works. 

A  father  sits  with  a  telegram  in  his  hands.  All 
his  hopes  are  dashed  to  the  ground.  He  never  had 
much  of  a  chance  himself,  for  as  far  back  as  he  can 
remember,  he  used  to  carry  bundles  of  finished  gar¬ 
ments  to  the  warehouse,  and  bring  back  material 
for  the  insatiable  sewing-machine  his  widowed 
mother  used  to  work.  But  with  the  years  he  had 
prospered  surprisingly,  and  as  he  saw  his  son  grow¬ 
ing  up,  he  had  said  many  a  time  to  himself,  “My 
boy,  you  shall  have  the  chance  I  never  had.  Maybe 
you  will  grow  up  to  be  a  blessing  to  the  world.” 
And  this  was  the  end  of  it  all?  His  splendid  young 
life  was  finished  ere  it  had  well  begun !  Well,  at  any 
rate,  he  had  died  as  a  hero.  The  Presence  was  by 
the  side  of  the  grief-laden  man.  He  pointed  to  the 
words  of  the  wire,  “In  Action,”  and  then  He  said, 
“You  loved  your  country  and  her  cause.  You  gave 
your  only  son  for  her.  It  is  well !  Do  you  think  I 
do  not  understand?  God  so  loved  the  world  that 
He  too  gave  His  only  son.  His  well-beloved.  And 
as  you  suffer,  so  did  He.  But  in  this  world  nothing 
is  lost.  Sacrifice  is  ever  effectual  for  it  is  eternal, 
and  your  highest  hopes  for  the  good  your  boy  was 
to  do  shall  yet  be  outshone :  he  too  has  helped  to 
save  the  world.” 

Moreover,  it  came  to  pass  that  God  caused  a  book 
to  be  written  wherein  was  the  record  of  the  world’s 
redemption.  It  was  called  “The  volume  of  Love,” 
and  a  vast  concourse  of  people  gathered  to  hear  its 
wondrous  lore.  But  there  was  Another  whom  none 


Problem  of  the  Divine  Indifference  77 

had  seen  but  whose  presence  was  felt  through  all 
that  great  assembly.  As  the  story  of  that  evening 
ere  the  sun  did  set  was  read,  a  man  with  glowing 
face  and  quivering  voice  said  to  himself,  “I  will 
dedicate  myself  to  the  healing  of  the  diseased,”  and 
a  maiden  said,  “And  I  to  the  nursing  of  the  sick.” 
As  the  tale  of  the  talents  was  unfolded,  one  said, 
“I  will  go  forth  Into  the  world’s  commerce  with  high 
ideals,  and  wdll  use  whatever  gifts  I  have  for  the 
common  good.”  Others  said,  each  for  himself, 
“My  pen,  my  voice,  my  brush,  will  I  use  to  bring 
the  noble  and  the  pure  to  the  notice  of  men.”  But 
when  that  strange  yet  sublime  story  of  the  Sacrifice 
of  the  Son  was  heard,  hearts  were  thrilled  as  never 
before,  and  the  mother,  the  housewife,  the  toller  and 
the  reformer,  heard  a  voice  that  moved  them  to  the 
depths  of  being  as  it  said,  “Inasmuch  ...  ye  do  it 
unto  Me.” 

Whence  came  that  word?  It  was  as  though  a 
cathedral  choir  led  by  the  pealing  notes  of  the  organ 
had  suddenly  rent  the  silence  In  twain  with  the 
swelling  harmonies  of  a  celestial  anthem.  It  was 
as  though  the  whole  orchestra  of  Nature  took  up 
the  strain.  The  rolling  diapason  of  the  thunders, 
the  shrill  piccolo  of  the  winds,  the  roar  of  many 
waters  and  the  sweet  trilling  of  the  nightingale, 
shared  In  the  refrain.  It  was  as  though — but  what 
can  describe  It?  One  whom  the  world  had  thought 
remote  from  Its  suffering  and  travail  wholly  indif¬ 
ferent  to  Its  need,  but  who  had  ever  been  in  the 
midst  of  its  misery,  was  speaking  In  tenderest  ac¬ 
cents.  “Ye  thought  that  God  did  not  care?  Ye 
have  been  sad  because  the  heavens  were  not  rent 
for  His  coming?  Wherefore  should  they  be,  seeing 


78  Problems  that  Ferplex 

that  He  must  ever  be  with  His  world-weary  chil¬ 
dren  !  Said  I  not,  ‘Lo,  I  am  with  you  always,  even 
to  the  end  of  the  world’?” 

It  is  even  as  Christ  has  said.  The  divine  indif¬ 
ference  does  not  exist  except  in  our  thought.  His 
heart  is  too  tender.  His  love  is  too  large,  to  allow 
God  to  be  separated  from  His  children.  And 
though  the  days  may  be  dark  with  the  mists  of 
misery  or  the  skies  hung  thick  with  the  clouds  of 
doubt,  we  have  the  assurance  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  God  to  rend  the  heavens  and  come  down.  He 
is  by  the  side  of  His  servants  in  every  experience. 
He  is  before  His  army  in  every  hour  of  conflict,  and 
in  the  end,  when  the  gloom  of  life  is  dispelled,  we 
shall  see  the  glorious  presence  of  our  God  breaking 
the  power  of  evil  and  taking  unto  Him  His  great 
power  that  He  may  reign. 


V 


THE  PROSPERITY  OF  THE  WICKED 

T^RYDEN  in  caustic  vein  once  wrote : 

“The  gods  are  good :  I  would  think  so 
If  they  would  give  me  leave! 

But  virtue  in  distress  and  vice  in  triumph 
Make  atheists  of  mankind.” 

That  may  overstate  the  matter  as  far  as  we  are 
concerned,  but  in  the  bosom  of  all,  at  some  time 
or  other,  questions  about  the  justice  that  governs 
life  are  raised.  Why  do  the  wicked  so  often  seem 
to  prosper  while  the  righteous  are  worsted  in  the 
struggle?  Why  do  the  scamps  succeed  and  the 
saints  fail?  We  wish  that  God  would  so  order 
things  that  those  who  honourably  seek  to  serve  Him 
might  never  be  victimised  either  by  their  circum¬ 
stances  or  the  fickle  fancy  of  fortune. 

These  difficulties  are  as  old  as  the  hills.  Religious 
men  in  every  age  have  discussed  the  problem,  for 
there  is  righteous  Lot  vexed  by  the  ways  of  the 
wicked.  David  is  driven  almost  to  despair  as  he 
sees  the  faithful  denied  fair  play,  and  from  the  lips 
of  the  Psalmist,  of  Job,  and  Jeremiah,  the  same 
piteous  plaints  are  heard  as  the  godly  man  is  put 
down  and  the  ungodly  flourishes  like  the  green  bay- 
tree.  Nor  is  that  feeling  confined  to  that  ancient 
day.  The  same  questions  have  sprung  unbidden  to 

79 


8o  Problems  that  Perplex 

our  lips  as  we  have  witnessed  the  sad  scenes  of  life 
about  us.  Why  do  the  wicked  prosper?  There  are 
some  fine  souls  whose  faith  withstands  almost  any 
shock,  but  many  of  us  less  happily  placed  feel  the 
strain  that  is  put  on  our  faith  in  God  as  we  see  the 
prosperity  of  the  unprincipled,  while  there  is  a  lurk¬ 
ing  belief  that,  after  all,  the  wicked  have  quite  the 
best  of  things  as  this  life  goes. 

The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  is  Contrary 
TO  WHAT  WE  Expect  of  God 

✓ 

It  seems  a  reflection  on  the  Divine  power.  It 
cannot  surely  be  that  the  world  haTgot  out  of  hand 
or  proved  too  much  for  its  Maker,  and  yet,  without 
indulging  in  any  glib  criticism,  this  is  the  conclusion 
to  which  we  feel  we  are  being  led.  It  is  forced 
upon  some  by  the  inexplicable  inequalities  that  we 
witness,  and  by  the  apparent  defeat  of  the  good. 
To  say  that  God  does  not  care  is  unworthy  of  One 
who  is  perfectly  good,  and  whose  whole  character 
is  holy,  and  it  cannot  be  that  He  is  deaf  to  the  cries 
of  the  wronged,  the  afflicted,  the  defrauded.  Were 
it  only  men  of  iniquitous  and  abominable  life  who 
call  in  vain,  that  might  explain  the  seeming  heedless¬ 
ness  of  the  Heavenly  Father.  But  that  is  just  where 
the  gravest  part  of  the  difficulty  lies.  It  is  the  best 
in  all  ages  who  have  often  suffered  most,  and  who 
have  called  upon  the  Most  High  to  vindicate  their 
cause  and  to  defend  the  right,  yet  they  have  often 
called  in  vain. 

Like  the  gaunt  arms  of  yonder  trees,  stretched  in 
mute  appeal  to  wintry  skies,  or  tossing  their  branches 
to  and  fro  as  though  in  pain  as  the  chill  winds  play 


The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  8i 

about  them,  the  heart  of  humanity  lifts  itself  to  the 
Unseen.  There  is  no  audible  nor  visible  response. 
If  only  God  would  stand  between  the  weak  and  the 
strong,  if  He  would  but  order  things  differently  so 
that  the  'wicked  were  not  permitted  to  work  their 
evil  way,  how  much  easier  would  faith  find  it!  We 
could  understand  the  sinner  suffering  for  his  folly, 
and  to  see  justice  and  right  prevailing  at  the  cost 
of  the  wrongdoer  would  satisfy  our  sense  of  moral 
fitness.  But  how  vastly  different  are  the  facts  of 
life  as  we  know  them. 

Scan  just  casually  some  of  the  loose  leaves  of 
life  that  may  be  yours,  and  how  tragic  their  record. 
Here  is  a  widow  once  in  a  good  position,  but  by  the 
dishonesty  of  her  husband’s  executor  compelled  to 
earn  a  living  for  her  children  and  herself.  She  has 
opened  a  fourth-rate  boarding-house,  where,  with 
splendid  self-effacement,  she  toils  early  and  late  to 
keep  things  going.  Though  she  presides  at  the 
table,  she  has  first  done  the  menial  work  of  the 
kitchen  till  her  once  white  hands  with  their  tapering 
fingers  are  now  roughened  and  coarse  with  unaccus¬ 
tomed  drudgery.  At  last,  worn  out  with  the  unequal 
struggle  against  insuperable  odds,  keeping  faith  with 
her  creditors,  driving  the  wolf  away,  she  falls  a 
victim  to  ill-health.  She  is  penniless  and  the  world 
is  pitiless,  while  the  rogue  who  robbed  her  waxes 
rich.  Should  these  things  be? 

An  aged  man  is  persuaded  to  part  with  his  life 
savings  by  the  smooth  words  of  a  friend  who  is 
“the  soul  of  honour.”  It  may  be  that  while  this 
man  is  a  company  promoter,  he  is  also  a  pillar  of 
the  church.  So  he  bears  away  the  spoil  to  invest  it 
in  some  shady  concern,  while *aged  eyes  grow  weary 


82  Froblems  that  Perplex 

watching  for  a  glimpse  of  the  ship  that  is  to  come 
home,  bearing  golden  argosies.  While  the  rascal 
moves  into  a  palatial  house  as  the  result  of  his 
success  as  a  business  man,  the  righteous  moves  into 
the  poorhouse.  Surely  God  would  have  stood  be¬ 
tween  the  simple  old  man  and  such  a  fate  had  He 
known,  or  had  He  been  able ! 

A  new  manager  is  appointed  to  take  charge  of 
an  old-established  business,  and  at  once  he  sets  about 
reorganizing  the  departments.  As  is  fitting,  we  sup¬ 
pose,  he  begins  with  some  who  have  grown  grey  in 
the  service  of  the  firm.  “Forty  years?  Yes,  quite 
a  long  time  !  Sure  you  will  be  glad  of  a  change  after 
so  long  a  spell.  What,  hope  you  are  not  going  to 
lose  your  position?  Well,  I  don’t  want  to  appear 
unsympathetic,  but  this  business  has  to  speed  up,  and 
I’m  here  to  make  it  go !”  That  is  doubtless  very 
commendable.  The  unfortunate  thing  is  that  in 
making  the  business  go  he  is  making  the  trusted  but 
not-as-young-as-they-used-to-be  men  go  at  the  same 
time.  It  matters  little  that  they  are  too  old  to  get 
another  position  or  to  make  a  new  start,  and  of 
course  it  is  no  concern  of  the  manager  to  enquire 
into  their  private  affairs  and  ascertain  if  they  have 
made  provision  for  their  old  age.  That  might  be 
resented!  So  there  is  only  the  scrap-heap  for  the 
discarded  machine,  be  it  material  or  human.  Once 
more  grim  injustice  amounting  to  tragedy  stares  us 
in  the  face.  It  may  be  commercialism,  but  it  is  not 
Christ-like.  It  may  “be  done,”  but  it  is  devilish  at 
best  to  discard  without  pity  men  who  have  striven 
their  utmost  to  build  up  a  business,  who  have  given 
their  very  lives  for  the  success  of  their  employers, 
and  whose  only  crime  is  old  age.  It  is  not  the  black 


The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  83 

mark  against  a  man’s  name,  but  the  grey  mark  in 
his  hair  tha^t  tells  against  some.  And  yet  it  is  God’s 
world  I  ^ 

It  is  passing  strange  that  He  tolerates  it.  We 
wish  that  He  would  cut  down  the  wrongdoer  or  at 
least  frustrate  his  knavish  tricks.  Can  it  be  that 
God  is  unable  to  do  so?  The  heart  sickens  at  the 
thought.  If  it  were  true  that  the  world  is  out  of 
hand  like  a  horse  with  the  bit  in  its  teeth,  or  like 
the  wild  wayward  son  who  is  no  longer  under  his 
father’s  control,  then  man’s  case  might  indeed  be 
looked  on  with  grave  concern.  The  whole  question 
of  the  Divme  justice  is  involved. 

If  our  Heavenly  Father  can  avert  these  evils  and 
does  not,  surely  He  is  self-condemned  at  the  bar 
even  of  the  frail  creatures  He  has  created.  Their 
sense  of  justice  is  outraged  by  the  grievous  happen¬ 
ings  of  life,  and  that  innate  sense  of  justice  is  im¬ 
planted  by  God.  All  we  have  heard  of  Him  has  led 
us  to  believe  that  He  is  just,  and  One  who  is  ever 
willing  to  be  measured  by  the  standard  of  right  that 
He  has  set  up  in  the  universe.  The  Psalmist  ex¬ 
presses  just  what  we  feel  abbut  God  when  he  says, 
“Justice  and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  Thy 
throne.”  Yet  here  are  wrongs  that  challenge  God’s 
justice,  and  men  who  flout  His  authority. 

This  is  where  the  human  heart  is  perplexed. 
When  evils  so  disastrous  to  the  welfare  of  the  race 
flourish,  and  men  who  seem  to  despise  the  pro¬ 
visions  of  the  moral  law  batten  on  their  fellows 
and  grow  rich  in  so  doing,  the  faith  of  the  godly 
receives  a  shock.  The  cry  of  the  oppressed  rises 
like  the  incessant  moaning  of  the  mighty  deep,  and 
the  groans  of  earth’s  millions,  burdened  with  misery 


84  Problems  that  Perplex 

and  justice  brought  about  by  the  scheming  villain, 
fill  the  air.  Yet  only  God  and  the  wrongdoers  seem 
heedless  of  the  laments.  He  has  surely  not  taken 
the  side  of  might  against  right! 

‘‘Harsh  are  the  truths  on  which  we  feed, 

Our  heaven  seems  remote  and  dim; 

And  still  the  toiling  millions  bleed 
In  struggles  fierce,  temptations  grim.” 

If  our  Divine  Maker  has  power  to  alter  these 
things  and  does  not;  if  He  is  just  and  yet  suffers  in¬ 
justice  to  prevail;  what  can  we  make  of  all  our  Lord 
has  told  us  of  God’s  faithfulness  and  His  love  for 
even  the  lowliest  of  His  children?  Another  link  in 
the  logical  chain  is  forged  from  the  hard  facts  of 
experience  upon  the  anvil  of  the  mind,  and  this  is 
the  whole  point:  if  these  were  the  questions  only 
of  the  sceptical  or  the  cynical,  we  might  pass  them 
by  unheeded.  But  they  are  not.  They  are  the  deep 
stirrings  of  the  heart  at  its  best.  The  prosperity  of 
the  unprincipled  has  caused  many  a  heart-break, 
and  men  who  have  felt  things  just  as  Jeremiah  did 
have  said  with  him,  “Righteous  art  Thou,  O  Lord, 
when  I  plead  with  Thee  :  yet  would  I  talk  with  Thee 
of  Thy  judgments:  wherefore  doth  the  way  of  the 
wicked  prosper;  wherefore  are  all  they  happy  that 
deal  very  treacherously?’’  (Jer.  xii.  i).  The  fact  is 
such  men  have  found  their  faith  failing  and  their 
foothold  giving,  so  that  they  were  being  carried  with 
increased  impetus  down  the  slippery  slopes  that  end 
in  the  Slough  of  Despond,  from  which,  unaided, 
none  may  rise. 

Plato  finely  says,  “The  prosperity  of  wicked  and 
unjust  men,  both  in  public  and  private  life,  who 


The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  85 

though  not  leading  a  happy  life  in  reality  are  yet 
thought  to  do  so,  may  lead — and  I  am  not  surprised 
at  your  mistake — to  a  belief  that  the  gods  care 
nothing  for  the  affairs  of  men.”  He  admits  that  it 
is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  there  is  any  indifference 
on  the  Divine  part,  and  yet  how  puzzling  it  is  to  the 
unsuccessful  and  to  the  dupe  of  the  unscrupulous 
that  such  things  should  be  permitted  at  all. 

The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  is  Contrary  to 
WHAT  WE  Feel  we  have  a  Right  to  Expect 

It  outrages  our  sense  of  right,  for  most  men, 
other  than  the  actually  vicious,  have  a  respect  for 
righteousness.  They  have  a  firm  belief  that  behind 
all  the  baseness  and  trickery  that  disgrace  human 
life  there  is  still  a  standard  of  right  to  which  every¬ 
thing  ought  to  conform,  and  that  there  is  a  “Power, 
not  ourselves,  making  for  righteousness”  that  will 
triumph  in  the  end.  This  is  plainly  demonstrated 
in  the  demand  made  on  the  novelist  and  the  dra¬ 
matist.  The  average  mind  rejoices  in  the  ultimate 
victory  of  virtue,  and  so,  unless  it  sees  the  heroine 
successful  in  outwitting  the  villain  and  emerging 
with  exultant  voice  from  his  clutches,  it  is  dissatis¬ 
fied.  It  requires  that,  no  matter  how  he  does  it, 
the  author  should  present  it  with  the  satisfying  spec¬ 
tacle  of  vice  ending  as  the  victim  of  its  own  crafti¬ 
ness,  and  virtue  resplendently  supreme. 

But  in  the  drama  of  life,  unhappily,  events  cannot 
be  so  controlled,  nor  will  the  actors  conform  to  the 
requirements  of  our  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things. 
The  result  is  that  the  value  of  virtue  itself  is  depre¬ 
ciated.  What  is  the  good  of  trying  to  do  right,  and 


86  Problems  that  Perplex 

follow  the  dictates  of  conscience  if  the  blessings  of 
prosperity  are  taken  from  the  godly  and  given  to 
those  who  deserve  them  least?  Even  the  ancient 
writer  says,  “Verily  I  have  cleansed  my  heart  in  vain, 
and  washed  my  hands  in  innocency!”  If  there  is 
no  reward  for  the  righteous,  if  there  is  no  difference 
'  between  the  saintly  and  the  unscrupulous,  then  the 
balance  of  heaven  needs  readjustment.  At  any  rate, 
that  is  what  we  often  feel  when  our  denial  of  the 
self  and  our  desire  to  walk  In  the  ways  of  God  are 
met  only  with  ridicule  and  loss.  The  unprincipled 
who  scoffs  at  honour,  and  regards  right  as  a  con¬ 
venient  fence  that  shuts  in  the  activities  of  his  com¬ 
petitor  while  he  has  the  run  of  the  country,  does 
seem  to  have  the  best  of  it  every  way,  and  so  again 
the  man  of  conscience  asks  himself.  Is  It  all  a  delu¬ 
sion?  Is  virtue  valueless  and  goodness  only  a  barrier 
to  success?  The  sneer  of  Dionysius  of  Sicily  strikes 
home  to  the  heart  with  the  hurt  of  a  poisoned  arrow. 
He  raided  the  temple  at  Syracuse,  and  his  homeward 
voyage  was  so  prosperous  that  he  said  with  a  laugh 
to  his  companions,  “See  how  the  gods  favour  the 
sacrilegious  1” 

Then  we  conclude  that  religion  Is  without  reward 
save  in  some  intangible  way!  But  one  of  the  con¬ 
stant  appeals  that  have  been  made  to  us  along  that 
line  has  been  to  the  law  of  cause  and  effect.  We 
have  been  assured  that  he  who  sows  wild  oats  will 
one  day  have  to  reap  the  harvest.  But  with  equal 
force  does  faith  demand  that  he  who  sows  In  patient 
continuance  In  well-doing  will  eventually  reap  the 
good  for  which  he  has  laboured.  Does  the  Christian 
reap  that  which  recompenses  him  for  all  his  self- 
denying  labours?  That  is  just  the  difficulty.  So 


The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  87 

often  the  good  seed  is  sown  where  the  thorns  spring 
up  to  choke  its  growth,  or  where  the  winds  of 
adversity  chill  the  tender  shoots. 

Now  without  evading  the  point  at  issue,  religion 
is  really  its  own  reward  quite  apart  from  any  mone- 
’farj^dvantages  that  may  come  to  a  man  because 
he  is  reliable  and  conscientious.  The  fact  is,  man¬ 
hood  comes  before  money,  and  character  before 
cash,  and  God  has  placed  us  in  the  world  primarily 
for  the  shaping  of  our  souls.  We  can  at  once  say 
it  is  better  to  be  treated  as  human  beings,  capable 
of  fellowship  with  the  Eternal  and  being  trained  as 
such,  than  to  be  as  the  beast  of  the  field,  which, 
though  it  be  decked  with  garlands,  is  yet  meant  only 
for  sacrifice. 

“I  envy  not  the  beast  that  takes 
His  licence  in  the  field  of  time. 

Unfettered  by  the  sense  of  crime, 

To  whom  a  conscience  never  wakes.” 

Yea,  and  it  were  better  a  thousand  times  to  be 
denied  the  temporary  success  of  the  unscrupulous 
men  of  the  world,  and  to  have  the  satisfaction  of 
doing  something  to  help  our  fellow-men  and  to 
glorify  God. 

So  far  we  have  been  trying  to  make  articulate  the 
low  moanings  of  the  oppressed,  and  to  give  expres¬ 
sion  to  some  of  those  thoughts  that  like  poisonous 
vapours  rising  from  a  swamp,  lower  man’s  spiritual 
vitality.'  We  now  turn  to  the  more  helpful  and  con¬ 
genial  task  of  seeking  to  justify  the  ways  of  God 
to  men.  How  shall  this, best  be  done?  When  Jason 
sailed  by  the  Isle  of  the  Syrens,  and  he  feared  that 
the  alluring  music  of  those  maidens  would  stir  the 


88  Problems  that  Perplex 

passions  of  his  men,  he  got  Orpheus  to  sing  one 
of  his  soul-enchanting  lays.  So  the  golden  voice  of 
Orpheus  rose  and  fell  with  entrancing  melody.  The 
music  of  the  syrens  lost  its  charm,  and  so  the  souls 
of  the  crew  were  saved  by  hearing  a  sweeter  song. 
Thus  it  shall  be  with  us.  The  song  of  hope  and 
trust  in  the  Good  Father  shall  drown  the  perplexing 
doubts  that  lure  to  unbelief  and  madness.  Life  shall 
become  sweeter  and  saner,  stronger  and  more  serene. 

Our  Knowledge  of  God’s  Purpose  is  yet 

Incomplete 

We  must  allow  for  vicarious  suffering.  It  is  one 
of  the  inescapable  factor^of  human  life.  Society 
is  a  huge  organism,  and  if  one  member  suffer  then 
all  the  other  members  of  the  body  may  be  called 
upon  to  suffer  with  it.  As  we  have  already  seen, 
sin  inflicts  suffering  upon  the  innocent  as  well  as  on 
the  guilty.  If  man  is  really  possessed  of  free  will, 
the  misuse  of  that  power  is  sure  to  result  in  misery 
and  mischief.  Even  God  cannot  load  the  dice  in 
favour  of  good.  He  must  leave  the  soul  to  act  as 
it  will. 

That  does  not  minimise  the  responsibility  of  the 
wrongdoer,  nor  does  it  mean  that  God  is  utterly 
unable  to  intervene  in  order  to  avert  any  of  the 
evils  that  man’s  folly  may  have  wrought.  Out  of 
the  evil,  or  perhaps,  more  correctly,  in  spite  of  it, 
God  sometimes  brings  forth  good.  Those  who  love 
Him  and  are  obedient  to  His  will  find  that  all  things, 
even  the  ills  of  life  and  the  suffering  that  another’s 
sin  may  entail,  are  made  to  yield  some  good.  The 
fire  may  be  kindled  by  human  hands,  but  the  purpose 
is  yet  divine.  The  gold  is  cast  into  the  crucible  but 


The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  89 

it  is  imperishable,  and  later  it  emerges  refined  by  the 
fire  of  affliction.  It  is  evident  to  any  thinking  man 
that  there  are  qualities  in  human  character  which 
shine  with  brighter  grace  because  they  have  passed 
through  the  fire. 

We  have  this  further  truth  to  consider.  The 
hand  of  God  is  seen  in  the  way  in  which  retribution 
overtakes  the  wicked  even  in  the  hour  of  prosperity, 
and  unexpectedly  justice  is  meted  out.  There  is  a 
marvellous  instance  of  this  in  the  way  the  aggressors 
that  plunged  Europe  into  such  suffering  and  sorrow 
were  pulled  up.  In  the  early  days  of  that  colossal 
struggle,  we  saw  the  grey-clad  hosts  of  Germany 
pouring  into  Belgium  and  carrying  everything  before 
them.  Men  held  their  breath.  Paris  seemed  to  be 
within  the  power  of  the  enemy,  and  London  was  to 
be  the  next  stopping-place.  And  what  did  God  say 
to  it  all?  Nothing!  Instead,  His  name  was  in¬ 
voked  on  behalf  of  the  strong  against  the  weak, 
the  wrong  against  the  right.  The  words  penned 
in  those  days  by  Dr.  Muehlon,  a  former  director 
of  Krupp’s,  give  us  a  graphic  picture  of  the  state 
of  things  over  there.  “From  the  balcony  of  every 
palace,  from  every  general’s  camp,  there  has  poured 
of  late  an  increasing  stream  of  exhortation  urging 
us  to  flock  to  the  churches,  to  fall  upon  our  knees 
to  invoke  the  God  of  justice,  the  Champion  of  our 
cause,  the  Protector  of  poor,  persecuted,  assaulted 
Germany — to  sing  praises  to  the  German  God  who 
will  lead  us  victorious  over  the  whole  world,  for  He 
can  find  no  better  use  for  the  garden  of  His  creation 
than  we  should  light  our  camp-fires  therein.  I  hope 
there  will  be  many  who  neither  kneel  nor  pray  to 
such  a  God  nor  for  such  an  object — the  sanctification 


90  Problems  that  Perplex 

of  the  Lie,  the. worship  of  Brutality,  and  the  deifica¬ 
tion  of  Wilhelm  11.” 

There  is  this  striking  fact  to  be  added :  in  the  Hall 
of  Mirrors  in  the  palace  of  Versailles,  on  the  i8th 
of  January  1871,  the  old  Kaiser  Wilhelm  I.  was  pro¬ 
claimed  Emperor  of  Germany,  Bismarck  had  tri¬ 
umphed  over  his  foes,  and  though  nameless  iniquities 
had  been  committed  that  the  end  might  be  secured, 
that  mattered  little.  Now  look  at  this  fact:  on  the 
1 8th  of  January — the  very  day,  forty-eight  years 
later — in  that  same  spot  at  Versailles,  the  Allied 
Conference  met  to  consider  the  terms  of  peace,  to 
undo  the  old  evils,  to  right  the  wrongs  and  secure  the 
welfare  of  the  world.  Is  this  Fate — or  God?  All 
through  the  years  God  has  been  at  work  in  the  world. 
And  though  man  lays  his  plans  carefully,  God  was 
not  on  the  side  of  the  biggest  battalions,  but  on  the 
side  of  right.  Nemesis  dogs  the  steps  of  the  un¬ 
principled.  The  power  of  the  wickedly  prosperous 
cannot  escape  justice.  God  is  righteous.  Though 
we  may  reason  with  Him  about  the  prosperity  of 
the  wicked  and  the  happiness  of  the  treacherous. 
He  is  just  as  jealous  of  His  own  honour,  just  as 
mindful  of  men  as  the  most  sensitive  among  us. 

But  why  should  God  delay  the  hand  of  retribu¬ 
tion?  We  have  no  right  to  dictate  our  time  to  God. 
We  have  an  axiom  that  if  we  give  the  wrongdoer 
enough  rope,  a  certain  desirable  end  will  ensue.  And 
it  is  ever  true  that  “He  taketh  the  wise  in  their  own 
craftiness.”  Pharaoh  was  powerful.  But  though 
he  might  oppress  Israel  with  impunity,  retribution 
overtook  him  in  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea.  Jezebel 
might  put  the  servants  of  God  to  the  sword.  But 
later,  the  dogs  licked  the  royal  blood  as  she  lay 


The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  91 

smitten  by  the  hand  of  vengeance.  Pilate  hesitated 
when  Christ  stood  before  him,  for  he  longed  to  let 
his  prisoner  go.  Yet  was  it  safe  to  do  so  when  the 
Jews  threatened  to  report  him  to  Rome?  He  tried 
to  wash  his  hands  of  the  responsibility  as  he  deliv¬ 
ered  the  innocent  to  death,  but  like  Lady  Macbeth 
he  found  that  nothing  could  cleanse  the  hand  of  the 
stain  which  innocent  blood  left,  and  Pilate  later  lost 
the  very  position  he  had  schemed  and  striven  to 
keep;  his  days  ended  in  disgrace. 

Then  we  must  remember  that  we  who  have  need 
of  mercy  may  never  deny  the  Divine  right  to  extend 
mercy  even  to  those  who  have  sinned  grievously. 
After  all,  these  are  God’s  children,  and  He  would 
fain  give  them  every  chance  to  reform.  One  heard 
of  two  men  in  a  Yorkshire  village  discussing  the  son 
of  one  of  them.  “Well,  how  is  he  going  on  now?” 
asked  the  first.  “Worse  than  ever,”  replied  the 
father.  “All  last  week  he  was  drinking,  and  he 
seems  to  be  worse  every  day.”  “If  he  were  my  son 
I  would  throw  him  out  and  be  done  with  him,”  said 
the  other.  “Yes,”  came  the  response,  “if  he  were 
your  son.  I’d  throw  him  out,  but  you  see  he  isn’t 
your  son — he’s  mine,  and  I  can’t  do  it.  That  makes 
all  the  difference !”  Hoping  with  the  love  that 
never  faileth,  God  waits  to  have  mercy  on  the  sinful. 
But  when  He  sees  the  man  who  still  flouts  the 
Father’s  Word,  and  brings  pain  and  hardship  on 
His  other  children,  then  the  justice  of  the  Divine 
heart  Is  seen  to  be  as  strong  as  its  love,  and  the 
punishment  of  the  wrongdoer  cannot  be  evaded. 

We  need  not  be  in  haste.  Our  views  are  neces¬ 
sarily  short,  and  it  is  not  always  the  shortest  views 
that  are  truest.  You  have  seen  the  merchant  with 


92  Problems  that  Perplex 

his  daily  returns  on  his  desk.  He  can  tell  at  a  glance 
what  his  plant  has  produced  and  what  his  sales  have 
been.  One  day  may  be  so  good  that  he  cannot  but 
be  gratified.  Yet  another  day,  while  his  working 
expenses  are  the  same,  his  sales  may  be  down.  Is 
he  depressed,  feeling  that  his  business  is  going  to 
pieces?  Of  course  not!  He  takes  one  day  with 
another.  The  totals  at  the  end  of  the  month  are 
a  far  more  reliable  guide  than  the  daily  returns, 
while  his  yearly  balance-sheet  is  more  reliable  than 
even  his  monthly  statement.  Apply  the  same  thing 
to  God,  and  you  will  see  that  it  is  only  when  the 
work  of  the  world  is  complete,  when  the  accounts 
are  closed,  that  we  have  the  data  to  come  to  any 
satisfactory  conclusion  about  what  God  has  been 
doing  in  His  universe. 

It  may  be  a  rebuke  to  our  pride,  but  suppose  we 
do  not  know  everything!  Suppose  that  the  Father 
knows  more  of  what  is  happening  than  we  can  pos¬ 
sibly  know,  and  that  He  sees  what  is  best  for  His 
children,  need  we  complain?  We  cannot  always 
tell  how  the  romance  of  the  novelist  is  going  to  end 
if  we  are  reading  it  in  serial  form.  We  may  be 
eager  to  know  just  how  good  is  going  to  triumph, 
and  how  the  hero  will  come  forth  the  nobler  and 
stronger  for  the  vicissitudes  he  has  met.  But  we 
have  to  curb  our  impatience  till  the  next  instalment 
is  procurable.  May  it  not  be  so  with  this  strange 
story  of  life? 

There  is  a  delightful  poem  which  shows  a  little 
girl  reading  with  breathless  interest  the  adventures 
of  a  knight.  She  is  anxious  that  he  should  not  be 
worsted  in  the  fight.  But  her  brother  reassures  her, 


The  Prosperity  of  the  Wicked  93 

for  he  tells  her  he  has  read  the  tale,  and  it  all  corned 
right  in  the  end.  So  shall  it  be  with  us : 

“Sometimes  at  eve,  as  the  night  draws  nigh 
That  bringeth  us  certain  woe, 

Our  souls  gather  comfort,  we  know  not  how, 

We  stop  not  to  reason  nor  know; 

An  angel,  mayhap,  doth  whisper  anear, 

As  it  points  to  some  future  glory. 

Fret  not  for  the  night,  farther  on  gleams  the  light; 

I  have  read  to  the  end  of  the  story.” 

The  end  is  not  yet.  The  wicked  may  pass  un¬ 
sentenced  from  the  lower  court  of  justice,  but  he 
cannot  evade  the  higher,  and  whatever  has  happened 
on  earth,  the  true  estimate  of  man’s  well-doing  or 
his  evil  ways  will  be  formed  only  in  the  perfect  light 
of  the  eternal  morning.  There,  the  sense  of  justice 
that  has  so  often  been  outraged  will  be  seen  as  the 
mirror  of  God’s  own  character.  God  will  vindicate 
His  ways.  The  All-Just  will  prove  His  justice  to 
the  satisfaction  of  the  suffering,  and  the  recom¬ 
pensing  of  the  wrongdoer.  For  now  we  know  in 
part,  but  then  shall  we  know  as  God  knows,  see  as 
He  sees.  Love  will  be  triumphant  as  faith  vanishes 
into  sight. 

One  of  the  lesser  known  of  Watts’  great  paintings 
shows  Death  lying  prostrate  on  the  ground,  and 
Time,  with  his  sickle  and  hour-glass,  his  power  over 
man  now  broken,  has  fallen  senseless  by  her  side. 
But  standing  erect,  his  wings  poised  for  flight,  there 
is  the  figure  of  Love,  with  arms  outstretched  to  the 
heavens,  the  light  of  radiant  hope  flashing  in  his 
eyes.  The  victory  is  won.  Death  and  Time  are 
forever  vanquished,  and  the  soul  of  man  is  ready 


94  Froblems  that  Perplex 

to  be  united  with  the  Eternal  Father  in  realms  of 
endless  day. 

It  will  come,  O  weary  heart,  that  relief  from  the 
perplexities  which  now  harass  the  soul.  Turn  anew 
to  your  task;  it  is  not  meaningless.  Your  questions 
are  not  without  answer.  One  day  the  mists  of 
earth’s  mystery  will  be  dispelled,  and  you  shall  see 
that  there  is  no  real  prosperity  except  that  which 
comes  to  the  soul  that  lives  in  the  light  and  seeks 
in  everything  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  God’s 
Son.  Grievous  ills  weary  the  heart  and  hinder  the 
pilgrim  feet,  yet,  after  all,  there  is  nothing — neither 
life  nor  death,  nor  things  present  nor  things  to  come 
— that  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 


VI 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  BELIEVING 

TT  is  no  use,”  remarked  an  acquaintance  one  day, 
“I  cannot  be  a  Christian;  there  is  too  much 
mystery,  too  much  to  take  on  trust.”  Considering 
that  he  had  been  brought  up  in  a  Christian  home, 
such  a  statement  was  as  saddening  as  it  was  sur¬ 
prising.  Nor  is  that  a  solitary  instance.  That  man 
is  a  type.  Whether  we  like  it  or  not,  the  spirit  of 
enquiry  is  abroad  in  the  world  to-day.  There  are 
some  who  are  beset  with  the  problem  of  believing. 
Their  faith  is  small.  Their  reason  demands  some 
satisfaction  before  they  can  accept  views  that  their 
fathers  held  without  question,  and  it  will  not  do 
simply  to  demand  that  they  must  believe.  Nor  will 
it  do  to  dub  them  mere  doubters  and  leave  them  to 
their  own  devices.  That  means  casting  a  soul  adrift 
to  make  shipwreck  on  the  uncharted  shoals  of  the 
sea  it  sails. 

To  be  perfectly  frank,  faith  has  many  unfathomed 
facts.  The  element  of  mystery  is  found  in  every 
religion,  and  the  more  profound  the  system  of  belief, 
the  more  there  will  be  that  will  move  the  soul  of 
man  to  wonder,  or  leave  it  with  a  deep  sense  of  its 
own  limitations.  Because  the  Christian  faith  is  the 
most  sublime  revelation  ever  made  to  mankind,  it  is 
not  surprising  if  its  very  sublimity,  its  profundity, 
sometimes  overawe  those  who  are  seeking  to  know 

95 


96  Problems  that  Ferplex 

the  way  of  truth.  It  is  most  refreshing  therefore 
to  find  a  great  Christian  like  the  Apostle  Paul,  a 
man  who  combined  an  acute  intellectuality  with  a 
simple-hearted  faith,  making  the  statement,  “Great 
is  the  mystery  of  godliness.”  He  is  far  from  ad¬ 
mitting  that  the  Gospel  is  so  glorious  that  it  cannot 
be  grasped.  It  is  one  of  the  marks  of  Christ’s 
evangel  that  while  it  is  so  profound  that  the  most 
brilliant  mind  may  fail  to  sound  its  depths,  it  is  so 
simple  that  a  child  can  grasp  its  essentials. 

The  facts  of  faith  may  be  unfathomed  by  the 
enquiring  soul,  but  that  does  not  mean  that  they  are 
necessarily  unfathomable.  Nor  does  it  mean  that 
because  there  is  an  element  of  mystery  in  Chris¬ 
tianity,  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  thoughtful  man 
to  believe.  Has  religion  any  monopoly  of  mystery? 
Far  from  it.  The  world  is  full  of  things  we  cannot 
fathom.  Yet  we  do  not  quarrel  with  life  on  that 
account,  nor  reject  the  accumulated  knowledge  of  the 
centuries  because  it  is  incomplete.  The  fact  is,  we 
utilise  the  knowledge  we  possess,  making  it  a  means 
to  fuller  knowledge.  A  thing  may  be  mysterious; 
it  is  not  necessarily  untrue.  And  just  as  we  use  our 
partial  knowledge  of  material  things,  so  we  may 
take  the  verified  facts  of  faith  as  our  guide  till  all 
mysteries  are  made  clear. 

Mystery  is  met  with  Everywhere 

The  world  is  full  of  it.  Even  the  simplest  things 
of  the  natural  world  are  wrapped  about  with  won¬ 
der.  Every  blade  of  grass,  twinkling  in  the  morning 
sun,  every  dew-pearled  leaf  its  pendant  drops  iri¬ 
descent  with  the  hues  of  heaven,  every  flower  that 


The  Problem  of  Believing  97 

breathes  its  fragrance  upon  the  air,  has  its  element 
of  mystery.  The  unshapely  bulb  you  bury  in  the 
soil  seems  an  inadequate  cause  for  the  hyacinth  or 
the  tulip  with  its  delicate  symmetry  and  its  rich 
colours.  The  acorn  enfolds  the  oak  of  stout  heart 
and  giant  proportions,  yet  who  can  believe  that  such 
a  thing  were  possible?  The  acorn  no  more  explains 
the  oak  than  the  egg  in  the  nest  can  explain  the  bird 
with  its  rich  plumage  or  its  powers  of  flight  and  song. 
You  may  hold  a  grain  of  wheat  in  your  hand,  but  can 
you  detect  its  dormant  life  or  explain  its  power  to 
increase  thirty,  sixty,  or  a  hundred-fold? 

George  Meredith  is  not  far  wrong  when  he  says, 
“Nature  is  the  supreme  experience,  the  highest  mys¬ 
tery.  She  must  be  approached  with  reverence,  with 
faith,  with  sympathy.  Then  the  sweetness  of  her 
life  is  ours.  We  are  able  to  enter  into  a  groping 
comprehension  of  her  unceasing  wonders.”  We 
may  add,  the  only  difference  between  Moses  and 
most  of  us  is  that  while  he  realised  he  stood  on  holy 
ground  and  took  the  shoes  in  reverence  from  his 
feet,  our  familiarity  with  the  wonderful  has  bred 
almost  contempt. 

The  presence  of  the  mysterious  in  the  natural 
world  is  certified  by  the  scientist.  As  he  has  tra¬ 
versed  the  paths  of  Nature,  many  a  time  he  has 
been  confronted  with  problems  that  have  been  a 
challenge  to  his  mature  powers.  Sometimes  those 
paths  have  broken  off  abruptly,  and  he  has  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  a  wall  of  solid  rock  through 
which  he  has  had  to  tunnel — facts  for  which  he  had 
to  find  an  explanation;  and  to  this  day  there  are 
some  facts  for  which  the  explanation  is  lacking  still. 
The  solutions  that  he  has  provided  move  the  average 


98  Problems  that  Perplex 

man  to  wonder,  not  to  say  incredulity,  and  mystery 
asserts  itself  again.  His  telescopes  have  swept  the 
heavens,  revealing  the  existence  of  myriads  of 
worlds  of  which  before  we  were  unaware  and  of 
which  we  know  practically  nothing.  The  planet  on 
which  we  live  is  known  to  be  continually  revolving 
with  tremendous  velocity,  yet  none  of  us  feels  its 
motion.  Light  reaches  our  world  travelling  through 
space  at  the  rate  of  192,000  miles  per  second,  while 
there  are  colour  and  sound  vibrations  perpetually 
about  us  of  which  our  senses  give  not  the  slightest 
hint.  The  mind  is  staggered  by  what  we  know,  but 
the  sum  total  is  only  a  tithe  of  the  wonderful  forces 
operating  in  the  universe. 

The  scientist  further  tells  us  that  the  solid  rocks 
on  which  our  eyes  rest  are  constantly  melting  away. 
What  is  now  covered  by  the  rolling  waters  was  once 
dry  land,  and  where  there  are  only  watery  wastes 
to-day  there  may  be  at  some  future  time  fair  and 
fertile  lands.  Geological  evidence  reveals  the  fact 
that  Great  Britain  was  once  submerged  to  a  depth 
of  1700  feet.  England  and  France  were  joined  by 
land.  The  Azores  now  washed  by  the  tossing  waters 
of  the  Atlantic  are  but  the  peaks  of  a  great  sub¬ 
merged  continent  that  once  joined  America,  Africa, 
and  Europe  in  one. 

Phenomena  less  important,  and  yet  interesting, 
are  still  without  explanation.  The  song  of  the  lark 
is  always  pitched  in  precisely  the  same  key.  The 
tulip  emits  heat  4^  degrees  above  the  atmosphere. 
Bees  always  make  their  combs  hexagonally.  And 
the  origin  of  life  itself  none  has  yet  been  able  to 
trace.  Mysteries  sufficient  to  amaze  the  most  scep¬ 
tical  abound  on  every  hand  in  this  matter-of-fact 


The  Problem  of  Believing  99 

world.  Is  it  any  wonder  then  that  some  of  the  most 
famous  men  of  science  have  been  devout  men? 
Galileo,  Kepler,  Newton,  Bacon,  Faraday,  and 
Kelvin,  all  believed  in  the  great  First  Cause  whose 
presence  and  whose  working  were  veiled  from  the 
eyes  of  man,  but  whose  goings  were  plainly  to  be 
seen.  One  is  reminded  of  the  Arab  who  was  asked 
how  he  knew  there  was  a  God.  “How  do  I  know 
what  passed  my  tent  in  the  night — a  horse  or  a 
camel?  I  can  tell  by  the  footprints.  And  all  may 
see  the  footprints  of  the  Eternal  in  the  world 
around.” 

The  same  element  confronts  us  in  the  world  within 
no  less  than  in  the  world  without.  There  is  hardly 
one  of  us  who  has  not  met  with  the  inexplicable  in 
human  happenings.  Though  the  miles  we  have 
travelled  on  life’s  pilgrimage  be  many  or  few,  mys¬ 
tery  has  met  us  in  one  guise  or  another.  More  than 
once  we  have  touched  the  veil  that  hides  the  in¬ 
visible  from  mortal  eyes,  and  how  thin  those  gauzy 
draperies.  Looking  back,  can  you  really  explain 
that  day  when  you  seemed  to  stand  on  one  of  life’s 
peaks  and  saw  not  only  the  path  you  had  traversed 
but  the  way  as  it  wound  in  and  out  to  the  distant 
goal?  It  was  then  that  the  possibilities  of  life  were 
suddenly  revealed  as  a  far-away  hamlet  nestling 
among  the  hills  is  seen  when  the  curtain  of  mist  rolls 
back.  Life  has  never  been  quite  the  same  since  then. 
You  felt  the  power  of  God’s  Spirit  swaying  your 
soul.  The  best  within  you  asserted  its  spell.  Yet 
for  that  experience,  real  as  it  was,  have  you  any 
adequate  explanation  apart  from  the  supernatural? 
What  of  those  strange  influences  that  played  on  your 
soul  as  you  hesitated  at  the  parting  of  the  ways? 


100  Problems  that  Perplex 

You  did  not  know  just  which  course  to  take,  and  yet 
now,  in  the  light  of  later  days,  you  realise  that  the 
choice  was  not  entirely  a  personal  one.  There  was 
a  hand  that  guided  you. 

There  is  a  singular  incident  in  the  life  of  one’s 
late  friend.  Dr.  John  Watson,  the  famous  author 
of  “The  Bonnie  Briar  Bush,”  that  is  illustrative  of 
this  point.  As  he  went  home  one  Sunday  evening 
after  an  exhausting  day  in  his  church  in  Liverpool, 
a  strange  desire  came  to  him  to  see  an  old  friend 
in  Glasgow,  of  whom  he  had  heard  nothing  for  a 
long  time.  The  impulse  was  so  strong  that  he  could’ 
not  resist  it,  yet  large-hearted  and  sympathetic 
though  we  knew  him  to  be,  there  seemed  no  warrant 
for  him  to  undertake  such  a  journey  under  such  ap¬ 
parently  trivial  circumstances.  He  felt  he  must  go, 
so  that  very  night  he  caught  the  midnight  train 
north.  Early  next  day  he  stood  at  the  door  of  his 
friend’s  house.  But  why  had  he  come?  What 
reason  should  he  give  ?  His  questions  were  unneces¬ 
sary.  The  maid  who  admitted  him  seemed  to  be 
expecting  him,  and  from  her  he  learned  that  her 
master  was  just  at  the  point  of  death.  Watson 
quickly  made  his  way  to  the  bedside,  and  as  his  old 
friend  stretched  out  a  hand  of  welcome,  he  said  with 
a  smile,  “I  knew  you  would  come !  I’ve  been  wait¬ 
ing  for  you  all  night.” 

Was  it  telepathy,  or  what?  It  simply  proves  that 

“There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy.’^ 

Happenings  not  quite  so  vivid  yet  just  as  mys¬ 
terious  are  not  uncommon  in  human  experience,  and 


The  Problem  of  Believing  loi 

they  bring  us  back  to  the  same  thing:  the  element  of 
mystery  that  seems  inseparable  from  life. 

Man  himself  is  a  mystery.  He  is  born  into  the 
world,  but  no  merely  human  origin  can  explain  fully 
the  phenomena  of  life.  He  is  subject  to  the  laws 
of  growth,  and  passes  from  stage  to  stage.  His 
body  by  Its  magic  transmutes  air  and  water,  and  the 
products  of  vegetable  and  animal  life  into  brain  and 
brawn.  He  eats  of  the  cornfield  and  it  becomes  to 
him  both  mind  and  muscle.  Apart  from  his  physical 
life,  man  Is  conscious  of  a  higher  life.  He  knows 
he  Is  bound  by  some  strange  ties  to  his  fellow 
creatures.  He  is  able  to  converse  with  them,  and 
they  too  from  the  hidden  workings  of  their  minds 
are  able  to  transmit  their  thoughts  and  ideas  to  him. 
But  more  wonderful  still  Is  the  fact  that  he  feels  that 
he  Is  bound  to  the  Eternal  Himself.  He  desires 
communion  with  Him.  He  Is  capable  of  fellowship 
with  the  Supreme,  and  so  he  stretches  out  lame  hands 
of  prayer  that  he  may  touch  God’s  hand  in  the  dark¬ 
ness  of  doubt,  or  in  glad  surrender  to  the  Divine 
Spirit  he  comes  to  realise  that  there  Is  more  than  a 
poet’s  fancy  In  the  words: 

“Though  inland  far  we  be, 

Our  souls  have  sight  of  that  immortal  sea 
Which  brought  us  hither.” 

Yea,  even  when  afloat  upon  the  wide  seas  that 
lead  beyond,  his  frail  bark  overspread  with  the 
ominous  shadows  of  the  falling  night,  he  has  faith 
that  the  blackness  of  the  sky  shall  but  presage  the 
dawn  and  he  shall  again  touch  hands  with  his  dear 
dead  upon  a  happier  shore. 

In  the  world  without  and  In  the  world  within. 


102  Problems  that  Perplex 

there  are  things  hard  to  be  understood,  but  who  can 
doubt  their  reality?  The  universe  is  charged  with 
the  inexplicable.  And  while  the  great  facts  of  faith 
— how  the  soul  is  linked  to  God,  how  prayer  avails, 
how  the  Infinite  became  incarnate,  stooping  to 
human  sin  and  need — are  mysterious  enough,  facts 
that  are  hard  to  fathom,  in  common  fairness  it  must 
be  admitted,  that  great  though  the  mystery  of  godli¬ 
ness  may  be,  religion  has  no  monopoly  of  mystery. 

Mystery  need  be  no  Barrier  to  Belief 

In  temporal  things  it  is  not;  why  then  should  it 
be  so  when  we  come  to  belief  in  eternal  things? 
One  of  the  everyday  principles  of  life  is  that  we 
test  things  by  their  utility  even  though  we  may  not 
fully  understand  them.  On  the  face  of  it,  what 
seems  more  wildly  improbable  than  wireless  teleg¬ 
raphy?  One  well  remembers  standing  by  the  Mar¬ 
coni  room  on  a  steamer  when  a  passenger  handed  in 
a  message  for  transmission.  “I  suppose  they  will 
get  it  all  right?”  he  asked  somewhat  dubiously  as  he 
paid  over  the  money.  The  operator  assured  him 
that  there  was  no  doubt  of  it.  Some  time  after,  an 
envelope  was  handed  to  him  on  deck.  It  was  a  reply 
to  the  message  he  had  sent,  and  there  could  be  no 
question  that  not  only  had  his  message  been  received, 
but  there  across  the  leagues  of  ocean  had  come  the 
reply.  “I  don’t  know  how  it’s  done,”  he  said  with 
a  smile,  “but  it’s  all  right!”  Without  understand¬ 
ing  it,  he  had  exercised  his  faith  in  the  possibility  of 
wireless  telegraphy.  He  had  tested  its  utility. 
Then  if  it  is  possible  thus  to  send  and  receive  mes¬ 
sages  transmitted  through  space,  is  there  anything 


The  Problem  of  Believing  103 

impossible  about  prayer?  If  man  can  communicate 
with  his  fellow-man,  may  he  not  also  communicate 
with  his  Father? 

The  Rontgen  rays  as  we  know  can  penetrate 
opaque  substances,  revealing  not  only  the  bones 
behind  the  veil  of  flesh,  but  also  any  foreign  body 
that  may  be  embedded  in  the  limb.  Why  then  need 
we  question  the  Divine  omniscience? 

Ruskin  in  his  inimitable  way  was  once  speaking 
about  the  mud  of  a  manufacturing  town.  “It  is  not 
the  vile,  disgusting  thing  you  may  think,”  he  says  in 
effect.  “What  are  the  elements  of  this  mud?  First, 
there  is  sand,  but  when  its  particles  are  crystallised 
according  to  the  law  of  Nature,  what  is  nicer  than 
clean  white  sand?  And  when  that  which  enters  into 
it  is  arranged  according  to  a  still  higher  law  we 
have  the  matchless  opal.  What  else  have  we  in 
mud?  Clay.  And  the  materials  of  clay,  again 
arranged  according  to  the  higher  law,  make  the 
brilliant  sapphire.  What  other  ingredients  enter 
into  mud?  Soot.  And  soot  in  its  crystallised 
perfection  forms  the  diamond.  There  is  but  one 
other,  water.  And  water,  when  distilled  according 
to  the  higher  law  of  its  nature,  forms  the  dewdrop 
resting  in  exquisite  perfection  in  the  heart  of  a  rose.” 
Is  it  then,  we  ask,  impossible  to  bring  beauty  and 
worth  from  the  unlikely  lives  of  men?  With  God 
all  things  are  possible,  and  conversion  is  as  much 
a  reality  as  re-crystallisation. 

Again,  trace  the  same  principle  in  more  homely 
directions.  We  do  not  need  to  understand  electricity 
before  we  enter  an  electric  car  or  read  by  the  electric 
light.  We  simply  take  the  facts  as  they  stand  and 
utilise  these  inventions  that  harness  the  marvellous 


104  Problems  that  Perplex 

energy  of  nature  for  man’s  use.  Nor  do  we  wait 
to  probe  the  mystery  of  the  digestive  processes  be¬ 
fore  we  eat.  How  a  piece  of  bread  can  sustain  life 
or  how  it  is  turned  to  vital  energy  never  troubles 
the  average  man.  He  takes  the  only  sensible  course ; 
he  knows  that  bread  does  sustain,  and  so  he  eats. 
Why  then  need  we  wait  until  it  has  been  demon¬ 
strated  to  us  that  there  is  a  spiritual  bread  of  which 
a  man  may  eat  and  be  made  strong?  It  is  the 
experience  of  multitudes  that  God  does  sustain  the 
souls  of  His  people  by  “the  bread  which  cometh 
down  from  heaven.”  Must  we  starve  until  we  have 
it  satisfactorily  explained  to  us  that  this  is  so?  The 
wiser  course  is  to  eat  first  and  enquire  into  the 
gracious  mystery  afterwards. 

The  processes  of  thought  have  been  made  the 
study  of  brilliant  minds  for  several  years,  and  the 
psychologist  has  many  marvellous  things  to  relate 
about  the  workings  of  the  human  brain,  yet  he  is 
constantly  confronted  with  mysteries  that  are  as  yet 
beyond  his  power  to  probe.  When  we  pause  for  a 
moment  to  ask  how  it  is  that  the  spoken  or  the 
printed  word  can  enter  our  minds,  awaken  noble 
aspirations,  let  loose  floods  of  emotion  as  though  a 
rock  had  been  smitten  by  some  unseen  hand,  we 
cannot  but  marvel.  Yet  we  are  perplexed  about  the 
inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  and  wonder  just  how 
God  could  communicate  His  will  to  the  finite  minds 
of  men. 

There  is  mystery  in  motherhood.  Who  can 
fathom  the  depths  of  a  mother’s  heart  or  measure 
the  influence  she  wields  not  only  upon  the  child 
during  its  plastic  years,  but  upon  the  grown  man  who 
has  long  come  to  years  of  discretion?  Away  in  some 


The  Problem  of  Believing  105 

distant  land,  or  immersed  in  the  commerce  of  the 
city,  many  a  time  he  feels  her  restraining  hand  upon 
him  or  realises  the  pure  influence  of  her  life,  enabling 
him  to  overcome  some  subtle  temptation  or  turn 
from  a  path  that  would  bring  dishonour.  Then  if 
that  is  possible,  we  maintain  that  there  is  nothing 
impossible  about  the  Fatherhood  of  God.  He  too 
is  able  to  hold  the  soul  to  Him  in  tenderest  devotion. 
He  too  can  influence  that  soul,  and  enable  it  to  choose 
the  good  rather  than  the  bad,  and  to  triumph  in 
face  of  the  most  exacting  tests. 

To  sum  up  the  matter  let  us  recapitulate  some  of 
the  ways  in  which  partial  knowledge  is  utilised,  and 
the  spiritual  facts  to  which  we  are  directed: 

If  wireless  telegraphy  is  possible,  so  is  prayer. 

If  wireless  control  is  effective,  so  is  Divine  guid¬ 
ance. 

If  radiant  gems  can  come  by  re-crystallisation 
from  the  components  of  mud,  then  conver¬ 
sion  is  possible. 

If  the  Rontgen  Rays  can  penetrate  the  opaque,  so 
can  the  light  of  the  All-seeing  reach  be¬ 
nighted  hearts. 

If  there  is  food  for  the  physical  life,  there  is 
provision  for  man’s  deeper  needs. 

If  a  man’s  words  and  a  mother’s  influence  can 
affect  the  soul,  so  can  the  power  of  the 
Eternal  Father  bless  the  hearts  of  His 
children. 

That  we  do  not  fully  understand  the  mystery  of 
the  material  does  not,  we  repeat,  mean  that  we 
cannot  use  the  good  that  is  possible.  But  as  we  use 
what  knowledge  we  have  the  chances  almost  amount- 


io6  Problems  that  Perplex 

ing  to  certainty  are  these,  that  knowledge  shall  in¬ 
crease  with  use.  “To  the  minnow,”  says  Thomas 
Carlyle,  “every  cranny  and  pebble  of  its  little  native 
creek  may  have  become  familiar,  but  does  the  min¬ 
now  understand  the  ocean  tides,  the  trade  winds,  the 
moon’s  eclipses;  by  all  which  the  condition  of  its 
little  creek  is  regulated,  and  may  from  time  to  time 
(unmiraculously  enough)  be  quite  overset  and  re¬ 
versed?  Such  a  minnow  is  Man;  his  creek  this 
planet  Earth,  his  ocean  the  Immeasurable  All,  his 
monsoons  and  periodic  currents  the  mysterious 
course  of  Providence  through  aeons  of  aeons.” 

Mystery  need  be  no  Barrier  to  Blessing 

We  face  profound  facts.  That  has  already  been 
admitted.  But  while  the  profundity  of  the  Christian 
faith  may  be  eloquent  testimony  to  its  greatness, 
that  is  no  valid  excuse  for  unbelief.  The  apostolic 
word  is  our  warrant:  “Great  is  the  mystery  of  god- 
/liness.”  Since  the  days  of  our  Lord,  the  greatest 
minds  of  every  age  have  grappled  with  the  facts  of 
I  faith.  Much  has  been  made  clear,  and  the  truth  has 
j  been  applied  to  the  conditions  of  human  life  more 
or  less  imperfectly.  But  there  are  some  mysteries 
that  have  still  to  be  solved;  there  are  some  things 
that  as  yet  baffle  the  mind  of  the  earnest  enquirer. 
Why  is  it?  Our  powers  are  possibly  inadequate. 

We  go  out  beneath  the  midnight  sky  and  look  up 
to  the  star-bespangled  dome.  The  words  of  the 
prophet  echo  in  the  heart,  “Lift  up  your  eyes  on  high, 
and  see  who  hath  created  these,  that  bringeth  out 
their  host  by  number.”  But  if  we  could  number 
them  we  should  find  that  there  are  only  about  7000 


The  Problem  of  Believing  107 

stars  that  are  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  while  the 
astronomer  with  his  mammoth  telescope  can  see 
twenty  millions.  Obviously,  it  is  because  our  powers 
are  inadequate.  The  same  thing  is  true  when  we 
seek  to  understand  to  the  full  the  wonders  of  the 
Godhead.  Tolstoy  in  one  of  his  stories  tells  of  a 
certain  king  who  was  perplexed  with  religious  doubts, 
and  who  could  not  believe  in  God  unless  he  first  saw 
Him.  So  one  day  a  shepherd,  noted  for  his  wisdom, 
was  ushered  into  the  royal  presence.  He  claimed 
that  he  could  prove  to  the  king  that  his  doubts  were 
unreasonable  even  though  he  posed  as  a  rationalist. 
The  king  agreed  to  follow  the  direction  of  the  shep¬ 
herd  and  he  was  bidden  to  count  aloud  from  one 
upwards.  So  the  king  began:  “One,  two,  three, 
four  .  .  “Stop !”  cried  the  shepherd,  “begin  at 
the  beginning.”  So  again  the  monarch  commenced, 
“One,  two,  three.  .  .  But  again  the  shepherd 
interposed,  “Thou  art  wrong  again,  sire,  thou  must 
begin  at  the  beginning.”  “Have  I  not  done  so?” 
asked  the  king  angrily,  for  he  began  to  think  he  had 
been  foolish  to  admit  the  fellow  at  all.  “What  can 
come  before  one  ?”  To  which  the  shepherd  retorted, 
“True,  what  can  there  be  before  one?  And  what 
can  there  be  before  the  Eternal  One?  He  is  God!” 

Then  he  led  the  king  out  to  the  open  sky  and  bade 
him  look  at  the  sun  which  had  now  reached  the 
zenith.  He  did  as  he  was  told,  but  involuntarily 
the  king  hid  his  eyes  from  the  dazzling  light.  “Dost 
want  to  blind  me,  fellow?”  “Nay,  sire,  but  if  thou 
canst  not  look  on  the  sun  which  God  has  made,  how 
canst  thou  look  at  the  radiant  majesty  of  the  Creator 
Himself?”  And  the  king  saw  how  vain  had  been 
his  conditions. 


lo8  Problems  that  Perplex 

,  Are  we  any  wiser  when  we  ask  to  see  before  we 
believe?  It  is  not  seeing  that  is  believing,  as  the 
ancient  proverb  runs;  it  is  believing  that  is  seeing! 
The  Divine  will  for  mankind  is  so  wonderful,  the 
love  of  God  so  amazing,  the  mystery  of  the  Divine 
sacrifice  so  profound,  that  before  the  undimmed 
lustre  of  the  majesty  of  God  man’s  eyes  grow  blind. 
Such  condescension  is  beyond  him.  Such  patience, 
such  pardon,  are  too  vast  for  finite  minds  to  grasp. 

We  behold  Jesus  made  like  unto  His  brethren, 
truly  man  though  truly  God.  He  dwelt  amid  scenes 
of  human  sorrowing,  striving,  sinning,  and  yet, 
moved  though  He  was  at  the  sights  He  witnessed. 
His  own  heart  feeling  for  mankind  in  its  misery. 
He  was  Himself  undefiled,  separate  from  sinners. 
He  gave  His  blessing  to  the  burdened  and  down¬ 
trodden.  He  spoke  words  of  hope  to  the  outcast 
and  despairing.  He  poured  out  His  life  in  a  final 
expression  of  the  Divine  pity  for  the  erring  sons  of 
men.  Dying  He  yet  lives.  Living  He  yet  loves, 
that  through  Him  man  might  not  only  be  reconciled, 
but  also  that  the  Divine  dream  for  the  race  might 
yet  come  true. 

We  face  verified  facts.  Our  Lord  is  one  of  the 
best  attested  figures  in  history.  To  quote  Dr.  New¬ 
ton  Clarke,  “His  name  was  Jesus;  His  time,  the  lat¬ 
ter  half  of  the  eighth  century  of  the  Roman  period, 
and  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era ;  His  race, 
the  Hebrew  people ;  His  country,  Palestine  in  Syria ; 
the  place  of  His  Death,  Jerusalem;  the  Roman  proc¬ 
urator  of  the  time,  Pontius  Pilate;  the  emperor, 
Tiberius.  Even  if  it  were  shown  that  myths  had 
gathered  about  His  memory,  these  facts  would 


The  Problem  of  Believing  109 

stand,  for  they  are  as  well  attested  as  any  facts  of 
the  period.  The  founder  of  Christianity  lived.’’ 

That  is  only  a  detail.  The  best  verification  Christ 
can  have  is  in  the  experience  of  those  who  have  loved 
and  trusted  Him  in  all  ages.  How  are  facts  veri¬ 
fied?  By  experience. 

You  may  have  your  theory  about  the  fall  of  man 
and  the  gulf  that  separates  man  from  God.  You 
may  speculate  about  the  fact  of  how  salvation  is 
obtained.  But  the  fact  of  salvation  is  no  speculation. 
Across  the  gulf  that  divides  man  from  the  Father  a 
bridge  has  been  thrown.  The  wandering  son  can 
find  a  way  back  home  to  the  Father’s  house.  He 
can  be  united  in  happy  filial  love  with  Him  from 
whom  he  was  estranged,  and  though  the  prodigal 
may  never  be  able  to  understand  why  his  father 
should  love  him,  or  how  it  is  possible  for  him  to  be 
forgiven  so  that  the  past  is  as  though  it  had  never 
been,  that  does  not  alter  the  fact  itself. 

Across  the  upper  reaches  of  the  Mersey  there  is  a 
railway  bridge  carrying  the  main  line  from  London 
to  Liverpool*.  One  night  in  mid-winter  we  were 
travelling  home  by  that  route.  It  was  past  mid¬ 
night.  The  wind  was  howling,  and  the  night  black 
with  clouds.  With  a  half-stifled  shriek  the  engine 
rushed  on  its  way  across  the  bridge  beneath  which 
far  down  the  waters  were  flowing  sullenly  to  the  sea. 
If  that  bridge  were  unsafe,  it  meant  instant  death. 
But  who  thought  anxiously  of  that?  Well-built, 
periodically  tested,  tried  every  hour  by  the  trains 
that  crossed,  it  had  proved  for  others  as  it  was 
proving  for  us — the  link  that  lay  between  darkness 
and  distance,  and  the  light  and  love  of  home.  It  is 
so  with  Christ !  Through  Him  multitudes  who  have 


110  Problems  that  Perplex 

known  what  it  is  to  be  exiled  in  the  far  country  have 
found  the  way  home  to  peace  and  rest.  They  may 
not  have  understood  all  the  mystery  of  His  life,  His 
love,  His  sacrificial  work,  for  “great  is  the  mystery 
of  goodliness,”  but  this  at  least  they  knew,  that  He 
was  worthy  of  their  trust,  and  in  every  way  trust¬ 
worthy.  Through  Him  they  found  the  Father’s 
face.  They  heard  the  word  of  paternal  pardon,  and 
were  restored  to  the  place  of  a  son  at  the  Father’s 
side. 

We  face  vital  facts.  Again  we  say,  though  we 
may  theorise  about  the  facts  of  our  faith,  those  facts 
are  not  mere  theory.  They  have  been  subjected  to 
the  supreme  test, — that  of  human  experience.  Christ 
has  only  to  be  trusted  with  the  soul’s  load  of  weari¬ 
ness  and  woe  to  prove  Himself  as  good  as  His  word, 
for  to  put  it  in  Livingstone’s  memorable  phrase,  as 
he  nerved  himself  for  his  task,  “It  is  the  word  of  a 
Gentleman  of  the  most  sacred  and  strictest  honour, 
and  there  is  an  end  on’t!” 

In  his  “Thoughts  on  Religion,”  the  late  Professor 
Romanes  asserts  that  one  of  the  things  which 
weighed  with  him  most  when  he  was  contemplating 
a  return  to  the  faith  he  had  once  forsaken  was  the 
fact  that  nearly  all  the  men  of  eminent  scientific 
attainments  in  his  own  university  of  Cambridge  were 
men  of  distinctly  Christian  character,  and  men,  too, 
who  had  come  to  their  opinions  not  along  the  hard- 
trodden  and  populous  paths  of  hearsay,  but  in  some 
cases  by  pioneer  paths  they  had  cut  out  for  them¬ 
selves  through  the  tangled  undergrowth  of  conflict¬ 
ing  creeds.  “The  curious  thing  is,”  the  Professor 
says,  “that  all  the  most  illustrious  names  were  ranged 
on  the  side  of  orthodoxy.  Sir  W.  Manson,  Sir 


The  Problem  of  Believing  ill 

George  Stokes,  Professors  Tait,  Adams,  Clerk 
Maxwell,  and  Bayley — not  to  mention  a  number  of 
lesser  lights  such  as  Routte,  Todhunter,  Ferrers,  etc., 
—were  all  avowed  Christians.”  Better  still  is  the 
testimony  of  that  great  company  which  no  man  can 
number  that  John,  in  his  vision,  saw  standing  before 
the  throne  and  before  the  Lamb  clothed  with  white 
robes  and  palms  in  their  hands.  “These  are  they 
which  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have 
washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb.” 

The  mighty  mysteries  of  the  Christian  faith  may 
not  be  fully  revealed  to  us  in  this  life,  for  our  powers 
are  finite  and  our  minds  at  best  are  but  the  minds  of 
children  of  larger  growth.  The  profound  depths  of 
the  Father’s  love,  the  compassion  of  Christ,  the 
tenderness  of  His  sympathy  and  the  bitterness  of 
His  heart-throes,  may  remain  for  ever  unfathomcd. 
But  of  this  we  may  be  certain,  about  this  there  is  no 
mystery:  the  barriers  to  belief  will  be  razed  to  the 
ground  as  the  soul  is  sincere  in  its  search  for  truth. 
No  man  truly  desiring  the  light  shall  be  denied  its 
gladdening  beams.  No  man  who  is  faithful  to  the 
will  of  God  as  it  has  been  revealed  in  Christ  shall 
walk  in  darkness.  On  the  contrary,  as  he  fixes  upon 
the  essentials  of  salvation  which  have  been  brought 
within  the  compass  of  his  mind,  he  shall  know  that 
though  much  in  life  and  in  faith  may  remain  un¬ 
explained,  at  least  he  has  a  foundation  that  shall 
endure,  and  sufficient  building  material  for  each 
day’s  work  till  he  has  built  for  the  soul  a  habitation 
that  shall  last.  Then  when  the  rains  descend,  the 
floods  come,  and  the  winds  blow,  his  soul  shall  not 


112  Froblems  that  Perplex 

be  left  shelterless  for  his  belief  is  founded  upon  the 
rock. 


I  have  a  life  in  Christ  to  live, 

I  have  a  death  in  Christ  to  die; 

And  must  I  wait  till  Science  give 
All  doubts  a  full  reply? 

Nay,  rather  while  the  sea  of  doubt 
Is  raging  wildly  round  about, 

Questioning  of  life  and  death  and  sin, 
Let  me  but  creep  within 
Thy  fold,  O  Christ,  and  at  Thy  feet 
Take  but  the  lowest  seat. 

And  hear  Thine  awful  voice  repeat. 

In  gentlest  accents,  heavenly  sweet: 
“Come  unto  Me  and  rest; 

Believe  Me  and  be  blest.** 


VII 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  BIBLE 

pRACTICALLY  if  not  professedly  the  community 
^  comprises  three  classes :  those  to  whom  the 
Bible  is  everything,  those  to  whom  it  is  nothing,  and 
in  these  days  of  enquiry  a  large  class  to  whom  it  is 
an  indefinite  something.  The  first,  the  saintly,  need 
no  help  such  as  one  may  be  able  to  give,  for  they 
have  found  still  waters  and  green  pastures  where 
the  soul  may  be  refreshed.  The  second,  the  scep¬ 
tical,  have  their  own  theories  and  dismiss  the  book 
as  though  it  were  so  much  outworn  superstition. 
The  third,  sincere  seekers  after  truth,  are  those  to 
whom  we  address  ourselves. 

They  stand  between  the  other  two.  They  were 
taught  that  the  Bible  was  the  Word  of  God,  to  be 
accepted  without  question  or  comment,  and  for  a 
time  they  were  satisfied;  but  when  they  went  out  into 
the  world,  they  were  thrown  into  contact  with  men 
who  freely  questioned  and  sceptically  commented  on 
the  Scriptures.  They  were  told  the  book  was  un¬ 
reliable,  that  it  was  full  of  contradictions,  and  that 
thoughtful  and  enlightened  people  no  longer  revered 
it.  What  was  the  result?  No  young  man  likes  to 
be  regarded  as  other  than  thoughtful  or  enlightened, 
and  the  problem  began  to  perplex.  He  could  not 
believe  that  his  teachers  and  parents  were  wholly 
wrong,  nor  in  face  of  things  he  heard  and  read 
could  he  believe  they  were  wholly  right.  Science 

113 


114  Problems  that  Perplex 

had  made  certain  discoveries  or  formulated  certain 
theories.  Scepticism  had  taken  these  as  further 
proof  that  it  was  correct  in  its  conclusions  and  jus¬ 
tified  in  its  attacks.  So  there  comes  to  be  this  sec¬ 
tion  of  society  that  hardly  knows  what  to  believe 
about  the  sacred  writings.  It  is  like  the  pendulum 
of  a  defective  clock;  it  no  longer  swings  from  one 
extreme  to  the  other,  but  remains  motionless  be¬ 
tween  the  two,  and  progress  is  impossible. 

Can  the  Bible  be  trusted?  The  question  is  of  the 
first  importance.  It  lies  at  the  root  of  our  faith, 
and  much  of  the  indifference  and  weakness  of  the 
present  day  may  be  traced  to  the  hazy  ideas  that 
some  of  us  have  regarding  the  value  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  viewed  from  the  modern  standpoint.  The 
number  of  people  who  can  say,  “I  believe  the  Bible 
from  cover  to  cover,”  has  diminished,  but  unless  we 
can  give  to  men  a  sound  and  sane  view  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  that  will  restore  them  to  their  rightful  place 
of  authority  then  the  outlook  for  the  future  is  dis¬ 
quieting. 

One  thing  is  quite  evident.  That  reverent  regard 
for  the  Bible  cannot  come  by  ignoring  the  questions 
of  those  who  have  been  disturbed  by  current  opinions 
about  the  Bible.  We  must  try  to  meet  them,  and 
supplant  the  error  of  the  rationalist  with  the  truth 
that  modern  scholarship  has  made  possible.  That 
this  needs  doing  was  impressed  on  one’s  mind  by  a 
conversation  with  a  usually  well-informed  man  who, 
while  striving  to  maintain  his  grip  on  the  old  belief, 
was  greatly  perturbed  by  some  criticisms  he  had 
read.  “But  who  are  these  Higher  Critics,  anyway? 
And  what  right  have  they  to  pull  the  Bible  to 
pieces?” 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  115 

The  question  was  saddening,  but  it  revealed  much. 
It  proved  that  there  are  some  at  least  who  have 
little  knowledge  of  the  debt  that  our  Churches  owe 
to  the  sanctified  labours  of  her  most  brilliant  men. 
Admittedly,  there  are  critics  and  critics.  The  zeal 
of  some  has  taken  the  bit  into  its  teeth,  uncaring 
consequences,  and  with  such  we  have  little  sympathy. 
But  there  are  others,  men  of  devout  life  and  of 
magnificent  gifts,  who  have  spent  their  lives  and 
consecrated  their  abilities,  not  that  they  might  take 
the  Bible  from  us,  but  that  they  might  give  it  back 
to  the  Church  even  more  worthy  of  man’s  implicit 
trust  than  before.  Sifting,  searching,  scanning  each 
line  and  letter  of  the  documents  that  lie  behind  our 
versions,  they  have  given  us  renewed  confidence  in 
the  pages  that  reveal  God’s  will  to  men,  so  that  we 
may  say  with  the  Psalmist,  “Thy  word  is  pure  (tried, 
refined)  ;  therefore  Thy  servant  loveth  it.” 


The  Bible  as  Tested  Truth 

If  the  Bible  is  true,  then  it  can  stand  the  closest 
scrutiny.  If  it  is  not,  then  the  fact  cannot  be  long 
hidden  from  the  world.  Thus  it  invites  criticism. 
In  the  advertisement  columns  of  a  morning  paper  a 
business  was  offered  for  sale,  and  the  words  ran: 
“absolutely  genuine,  fullest  investigation  invited.” 
We  may  apply  that  surely  to  God’s  truth.  So  we 
ask.  What  is  criticism  and  what  has  it  done? 

Unhappily,  the  very  term  is  likely  to  be  mis¬ 
understood.  Most  of  us  have  our  idea  of  a  “critic,” 
and  from  our  encounters  with  him  we  are  inclined  to 
regard  him  as  prickly  as  a  porcupine,  and  as  venom- 


ii6  Problems  that  Perplex 

ous  as  he  is  professedly  valuable.  He  is  the  finder 
of  flaws.  He  sets  out  with  the  express  purpose  of 
tearing  our  self-complacency  into  shreds,  and  while 
it  may  be  good  for  us,  that  does  not  make  us  too 
favourably  disposed  to  the  critic  himself  or  to  his 
findings.  But  the  critic  of  the  Scriptures  is  as  far 
removed  from  such  a  one  as  the  poles  asunder. 
He  is  a  scholar  who  has  been  specially  fitted  for  his 
task.  He  is,  speaking  broadly,  of  the  most  devout 
temper,  and  if  in  his  search  for  truth,  or  in  testing 
truth,  he  may  point  out  the  difference  in  value  be¬ 
tween  lead  and  brass,  between  silver  and  gold,  then 
his  work  is  not  one  of  relentless  destruction  in  which 
some  would  have  us  believe  he  takes  a  fiendish  de¬ 
light.  His  task  is  not  to  find  fault,  but  to  find  the 
truth  as  it  has  been  embedded  in  these  ancient 
records. 

The  Bible  has  often  been  described  as  the  Book 
of  books,  and  those  of  us  who  love  it,  and  owe  so 
much  to  its  instruction  and  inspiration  would  endorse 
the  phrase.  As  a  description  of  its  moral  excellence 
it  is  indisputably  true.  As  a  description  of  its  char¬ 
acter  it  is  at  once  incorrect  as  well  as  correct.  The 
Bible  is  not  a  book  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term, 
though  for  centuries  it  has  been  bound  in  one  volume. 
In  reality,  there  are  sixty-six  books  from  the  pens  of 
some  forty  different  authors,  and  they  cover  a  period 
of  several  centuries.  So  while  it  is  correct  to  call 
the  Bible  the  Book  of  books,  it  is  even  more  correct 
to  call  it  the  Book  of — Books,  Jerome,  in  the  fifth 
century,  described  the  Scriptures  as  “The  Divine 
Library,”  while  another  Father  of  the  church,  Chrys¬ 
ostom,  called  them  “The  Books.”  It  was  really 
owing  to  a  mistake  in  translating  the  neuter  plural 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  117 

Greek  term,  ra  as  the  feminine  singular  that 

we  got  our  present  term,  the  Bible. 

Now  this  is  important.  The  books,  thus  written 
by  various  men  in  different  periods,  and  in  three 
languages,  Hebrew,  Aramaic,  and  Greek,  are  not 
all  of  the  same  viewpoint,  though  they  were  all 
written  under  the  inspiration  of  the  same  Divine 
Spirit.  “Holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they  were 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost.”  But  God  was  yet 
limited  by  the  receptiveness  of  the  soul  to  whom  He 
spoke,  and  we  get  the  true  conception  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  when  we  regard  them  as  a  progressive  revela¬ 
tion  of  the  Divine  Will.  The  full  light  is  not  seen 
at  daybreak,  but  when  the  sun  reaches  the  zenith; 
and  so  in  the  dawn  of  revelation  there  is  only  an 
imperfect  apprehension  of  God  till  at  last  the  Sun 
of  Righteousness,  our  Lord  who  is  Himself  the 
Light  of  the  world,  reveals  to  us  the  full  and  perfect 
will  of  God. 

These  are  the  materials,  then,  upon  which  scholar¬ 
ship  has  been  focussing  its  beam,  and  being  true, 
we  need  not  fear  that  the  Bible  can  be  discredited  or 
taken  from  us.  The  more  the  gold  is  refined  the 
purer  it  must  be,  and  the  more  exacting  the  test,  the 
fuller  the  vindication  of  the  Scriptures.  Speaking 
of  the  tests  applied  by  scientific  scholarship.  Dr.  Fair- 
bairn  says:  “Nobody  denies,  nobody  even  doubts, 
the  legitimacy  of  its  application  to  classical  or  ethnic 
literature,  the  necessity  or  the  excellence  of  the  work 
it  has  done,  or,  where  the  material  allowed  it,  the 
accuracy  of  the  results  it  has  achieved.  .  .  .  Now 
the  Scriptures  are  or  are  not  fit  subjects  for  scholar¬ 
ship.  If  they  are  not,  then  all  sacred  scholarship 
has  been  and  is  a  mistake,  and  they  are  a  body  of 


ii8  Problems  that  Perplex 

literature  possessed  of  the  inglorious  distinction  of 
being  incapable  of  being  understood.  If  they  are, 
then  the  more  scientific  the  scholarship  the  greater 
its  use  in  the  field  of  Scripture,  and  the  more  it  is 
reverently  exercised  on  a  literature  that  can  claim  to 
be  the  pre-eminent  sacred  literature  of  the  world,  the 
more  will  that  literature  be  honoured.  .  .  .  Where 
scholarship  has  the  right  to  enter,  it  has  the  right  to 
stay,  and  it  cannot  stay  in  idleness.  Once  the  anal¬ 
ysis  of  the  material  of  faith  has  been  allowed,  a 
process  has  been  commenced  by  reason  that  only 
reason  can  conclude.  This  higher  criticism  is  but  a 
name  for  scientific  scholarship  scientifically  used.” 

What  are  the  methods  of  such  scholarship  and 
what  contribution  has  criticism  made?  It  is  outside 
our  main  purpose  to  enter  into  a  detailed  statement 
of  the  methods,  but  a  word  or  two  will  help  the 
reader  to  understand  the  work  that  has  been  done. 
Our  scholars  have  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  in 
comparing  the  various  manuscripts  that  lie  behind 
the  books.  There  are  differing  accounts  of  some 
of  the  events  recorded,  and  variations  in  the  texts 
themselves,  and  this  scrutiny  of  the  documents  in  the 
original  language  is  usually  called  Lower  Criticism. 
The  other  branch  of  study  concerns  itself  more  par¬ 
ticularly  with  authorship;  not  only  the  man  who 
wrote  a  given  book,  but  under  what  circumstances  he 
wrote,  the  period  and  place  of  writing,  and  the 
object  he  had  before  him  as,  under  the  impulse  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  he  thus  addressed  the  people.  This 
is  called  Higher  Criticism,  and  its  main  purpose  is 
readily  seen.  It  is  to  place  a  book  in  its  true  setting, 
and  to  give  the  historical  background  which  makes 
some  of  the  old  writings  at  once  more  intelligible. 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  119 

instructive,  and  interesting,  enabling  us  to  see  the 
way  in  which  God  was  always  mindful  of  His  people, 
and  how  in  the  darkest  day  there  was  always  some 
gleam  of  divine  light  to  gladden  and  guide  the 
human  heart. 

To  regard  such  work  as  mainly  destructive  Is  a 
great  mistake.  It  is  no  doubt  true  of  most  of  us 
that  we  do  not  like  to  alter  our  views.  It  Is  not 
pleasant  nor  flattering  to  find  that  some  one  knows 
more  about  a  thing  than  we  do,  especially  when  our 
views  are  long-established.  That  Is  why  many  who 
love  their  Bibles  have  got  Into  grooves  in  which  they 
prefer  to  run.  Yet  as  the  late  Silvester  Horne  used 
to  say,  “the  only  difference  between  a  groove  and  a 
grave  Is  a  question  of  depth.”  We  must,  if  we  are 
to  have  a  faith  In  the  Scriptures  that  is  vital  and 
virile,  take  account  of  everything  that  will  help  us  to 
a  fuller  understanding  of  their  meaning,  and  a  more 
intelligent  grasp  of  their  truth.  Instead  of  the  Bible 
ceasing  to  be  the  inspired  Word  of  God,  it  will  be 
found  to  be  more  worthy  of  our  trust.  It  was  once 
universally  held  that  the  earth  was  flat.  We  know 
better  now,  but  the  reality  of  Its  existence  has  not 
been  modified  In  the  least  because  we  have  fuller 
knowledge.  It  was  once  assumed  that  the  sun  moved 
round  the  earth,  and  because  Galileo  suggested  that 
such  was  not  the  case,  he  was  pitilessly  persecuted. 
Now  his  theory  holds  the  field,  but  the  light  and 
warmth  of  the  sun  are  enjoyed  no  matter  what  the 
theory.  Old  Ideas  may  be  superseded;  the  facts  re¬ 
main.  So  It  Is  with  the  Holy  Word.  Larger  knowl¬ 
edge  may  modify  our  Ideas,  but  the  fact  that  those 
pages  enshrine  God’s  message  to  mankind  becomes 
more  and  more  clear  as  the  light  increases. 


120  Problems  that  Perplex 

The  fact  is,  prejudice  has  swayed  us  more  than 
we  may  think.  People  look  on  the  work  of  the 
critics  with  dislike,  as  though  these  were  so  many 
faith-shaking  agents  commissioned  by  the  evil  one, 
forgetting  the  fact  that  “the  counsel  of  the  Lord 
standeth  for  ever.’’  They  say,  “But  do  not  the 
critics  affirm  that  David  did  not  write  the  Psalms?” 
Who  said  he  did?  If  you  will  look  at  the  titles  of 
the  Psalms  themselves,  even  in  the  A.V.  of  i6ii, 
you  will  find  that  quite  a  number  of  them  are  at¬ 
tributed  to  different  authors  or  dedicated  to  different 
men.  Asaph,  Solomon,  Ethan,  Moses,  are  all  num¬ 
bered  in  this  company,  and  though,  as  we  know, 
these  titles  were  added  at  a  much  later  date,  some 
men  make  claims  for  the  Bible  that  it  never  makes 
for  itself,  and  ignorance  is  ever  the  parent  of  preju¬ 
dice.  Such  dedications  are  the  work  of  “critics” 
who  lived  long  before  the  time  of  Christ.  The  same 
thing  is  true  of  other  books  of  the  Bible.  These 
books  do  not  claim  to  be  written  by  the  men  whose 
names  they  bear,  though  that  does  not  preclude  them 
from  authorship. 

We  repeat,  the  more  stringent  the  test,  the  greater 
the  guarantee  of  genuineness.  The  more  careful  the 
scrutiny  the  surer  we  may  be  that  the  foundation  of 
the  fabric  is  stable  and  sound.  Dr.  Hort,  one  of  the 
foremost  critical  scholars  England  has  produced,  can 
surely  impart  confidence  to  us  when  we  fear  lest  the 
critics  may  take  from  us  the  very  rock  on  which  we 
build,  for  he  says,  writing  about  New  Testament 
criticism,  “The  amount  of  words  in  the  New  Testa¬ 
ment  that  can  in  any  sense  be  called  a  substantial 
variation,  can  hardly  be  more  than  one  one-thou¬ 
sandth  part  of  the  entire  text.”  While  Dr.  Kenyon 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  121 

of  the  British  Museum  adds,  “No  doctrine  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  rests  solely  upon  a  disputed  text.” 

Such  testing  of  the  evidence  on  which  our  faith  is 
reared  cannot  but  renew  confidence  in  its  truth. 
Such  cleaning  of  the  soul’s  windows  cannot  but  let 
in  more  of  the  radiant  light  of  heaven.  That  is  why 
we  hold  that  tested  truth  merits  more  trust  than 
truths  that  are  calmly  accepted  without  examination. 
The  reverent  critic  is  not  bent  on  the  destruction  of 
the  Bible,  but  on  its  better  understanding;  and  even 
if  he  were,  could  he  succeed  any  better  than  the  scep¬ 
tic  and  the  rationalist?  The  frontispiece  of  Wycliff’s 
old  Bible  depicts  the  fire  of  truth  blazing  brightly, 
and  round  about  it  there  is  a  company  of  satanic 
figures  and  some  attired  as  cardinals  all  trying  to 
blow  it  out.  Their  cheeks  are  swollen  as  they  make 
mighty  efforts  to  secure  this  end,  but  the  harder  they 
blow  the  higher  leap  the  flames.  The  Bible  is  inde¬ 
structible  except  by  the  indifference  of  those  who 
will  not  take  the  trouble  to  read  its  divine  messages. 
It  is  imperishable,  for  it  enshrines  the  Eternal  Word 
by  which  alone  the  soul  has  hope  and  can  be  com¬ 
forted,  and  because  in  it  God  Himself  draws  near 
to  the  soul  of  man.  “If  I  am  asked,”  says  Professor 
Robertson  Smith,  himself  a  critic  of  great  eminence, 
“why  I  receive  Scripture  as  the  Word  of  God,  and 
as  the  only  perfect  rule  of  faith  and  life,  I  answer 
with  all  the  Fathers  of  the  Protestant  Church  be¬ 
cause  the  Bible  is  the  only  record  of  the  redeeming 
love  of  God  drawing  near  to  man  in  Christ  Jesus, 
and  declaring  to  us  in  Him  His  will  for  our  salva¬ 
tion.”  Not  very  “destructive”  for  one  who  was 
himself  suspect!  He  goes  on  to  say,  “And  this 
record  I  know  to  be  true  by  the  witness  of  His 


122  Problems  that  Perplex 

Spirit  in  my  heart,  whereby  I  am  assured  that  none 
other  than  God  Himself  is  able  to  speak  such  words 
to  my  soul.” 

God  has  spoken  to  man  in  Nature  and  his  heart 
has  been  conscious  of  the  Unseen.  He  has  traced 
the  hand  of  God  in  the  works  of  creation,  and  his 
knowledge  of  the  “Unknowable”  has  been  increased. 
God  has  spoken  to  man  in  the  affairs  of  the  indi¬ 
vidual  life,  and  sometimes,  possibly,  new  light  has 
been  received.  But  nowhere,  in  no  other  manner, 
has  God  so  clearly  revealed  Himself  as  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  There  He  meets  with  man,  talks  with 
him  about  duty,  destiny,  and  the  Deity.  There  the 
loftiest  ideals  of  life  are  set  forth,  and  there  too  the 
tenderest  words  of  love  are  told :  God’s  redemptive 
work  for  the  race.  And  this,  far  from  obscuring, 
but  on  the  contrary  making  more  plain,  the  work  of 
the  critic  has  helped  us  better  to  understand. 

The  Bible  as  Time- Attested  Truth 

The  work  of  the  critic  has  been  supplemented  by 
the  fuller  knowledge  that  has  come  to  us  in  other 
ways.  New  light  has  been  thrown  on  the  Bible  by 
the  work  of  the  explorer,  made  possible  by  the 
Palestine  Exploration  Fund,  and  to  this,  together 
with  the  work  of  the  Egyptologists,  we  turn  our 
attention.  In  Cairo  there  is  a  museum  in  which 
many  of  the  relics  that  have  been  collected  are  pre¬ 
served,  and  these  point  to  the  early  civilisation  of 
Egypt.  It  is  said  that  the  further  back  our  enquiries 
are  pushed  the  more  wonderful  are  the  results  ob¬ 
tained.  The  state  of  society  in  those  times  was  far 
more  advanced  than  we  had  thought  possible.  We 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  123 

also  know  that  the  historians  of  the  world  did  not 
begin  work  only  with  the  Greek  period,  but  that  a 
century  before  the  Exodus,  there  was  a  literary 
people  in  Egypt.  Thus  the  view  that  the  historical 
books  of  the  Mosaic  period  belonged  to  a  much 
later  date  is  refuted,  even  though  they  were  edited 
and  rewritten  at  some  time  subsequent  to  the  Exile. 

The  Tel-el-Amarna  Tablets,  discovered  on  the 
banks  of  the  Nile,  give  a  most  illuminating  account 
of  the  national  and  social  development  which  had 
taken  place  even  in  early  times.  They  place  on 
record  the  diplomatic  relations  between  Canaan  and 
Syria,  and  the  king  of  Babylonia,  Assyria,  Mesopo¬ 
tamia,  and  Asia  Minor.  While  the  more  recently 
discovered  legal  code  of  Amraphel,  king  of  Shinar, 
a  contemporary  of  Abraham,  also  shows  that  the 
laws  of  Babylon  were  familiar  to  peoples  of  the  west. 

We  are  indebted  to  the  late  Dr.  J.  H.  Moulton 
for  a  most  fascinating  story  of  the  precious  finds 
in  Egyptian  rubbish-heaps.  Waste-paper  was  not 
burned  in  those  days.  It  seems  to  have  been  the 
practice  to  carry  it  outside  the  towns  and  leave  the 
sand  to  bury  it.  Owing  to  the  exceptionally  dry  cli¬ 
mate  many  of  these  mounds  have  preserved  various 
documents  for  thousands  of  years,  and  while  there  is 
but  little  bearing  directly  on  the  Scriptures,  yet  their 
contents  have  been  most  useful  in  helping  us  better 
to  understand  the  language  and  customs  of  the  peo¬ 
ple.  These  papers  include  wills,  agreements,  private 
correspondence,  and  a  mass  of  other  matter,  and 
they  are  written  on  papyrus. 

This  writing  material  was  got  from  the  papyrus 
reeds  that  fringe  the  banks  and  swamps  of  the  Nile. 
The  reeds  were  gathered  and  the  pith  was  taken, 


124  Problems  that  Perplex 

out  and  mixed  with  a  little  clay  and  water.  One 
layer  had  another  placed  crosswise  upon  it,  and 
having  been  rolled,  it  was  dried  in  the  sun,  and  was 
then  ready  for  writing  purposes.  It  is  interesting  to 
note  that  the  Greek  word  for  this  pith  was  jStjSXos, 
a  name  later  applied  to  paper  made  of  this  material, 
and  hence  a  book. 

Another  kind  of  writing  material  was  the  ancient 
unglazed  pottery  ware,  on  which  messages  were 
sent,  and  notes  made.  These  fragments  are  called 
ostraca,  and  they  too  have  yielded  abundance  of 
useful  and  instructive  material.  Writing  on  parch¬ 
ment  belongs  to  a  later  date. 

Now  let  us  thread  some  of  the  beads  together 
and  see  how  the  Bible  is  time-attested  truth.  We 
simply  take  facts  that  we  have  culled  from  various 
quarters;  nothing  but  the  string  is  our  own. 

In  Exodus  we  read  that  the  Egyptians  began  to 
oppress  the  Israelites,  exacting  from  them  forced 
labour,  and  making  them  build  store  cities.  At 
first  straw  was  supplied  to  them  for  the  purpose  of 
brick-making,  but  later  they  had  to  gather  their 
own  straw,  and  we  can  easily  infer  that  as  the  tale 
of  bricks  had  to  be  the  same,  the  quality  would  go 
down.  The  ruins  of  the  ancient  city  of  Succoth 
have  been  discovered,  and  amongst  them  ruins  of 
the  granaries  in  which  surplus  corn  was  stored  for 
times  of  scarcity.  The  bricks  of  which  these  stores 
were  built  are  found  to  have  been  made  without 
straw.  Thus  the  facts  of  Exodus  are  attested.  But 
in  the  ruins  of  Pithom  and  Raamses  the  facts  are 
more  telling  still.  Bricks  found  there  are  of  three 
classes :  some  made  with  straw,  evidently  while 
that  was  supplied  to  the  Israelites,  and  others  with 


The  Troblem  of  the  Bible  125 

bits  of  reed,  when  the  supply  of  straw  ceased,  and 
still  others  without  straw  or  reeds. 

If  Pharaoh  wildly  pursuing  the  Israelites  was 
drowned  in  the  Red  Sea,  is  it  possible  for  his 
mummy  to  be  preserved?  The  answer  is  simple, 
for  though  we  read,  “the  horse  of  Pharaoh  went 
in  with  his  chariots  .  .  .  and  the  Lord  brought 
again  the  waters  of  the  sea  upon  them,”  we  know 
full  well  that  Pharoah  was  probably  far  too  care¬ 
ful  of  his  precious  person  to  venture  himself  in  an 
expedition  of  that  kind,  or  if  he  did  actually  take 
the  field,  then  we  may  be  sure  that,  as  in  the  case 
of  modern  War-lords  he  “led”  his  forces  from  a 
safe  distance. 

The  incident  of  the  blessings  and  cursings  at 
Gerizim  and  Ebal,  recorded  in  Deuteronomy,  have 
sometimes  been  called  into  question.  It  will  be 
recalled  that  Moses  set  one  party  on  Mount  Geri¬ 
zim  to  bless  the  people,  and  another  on  Mount  Ebal 
to  curse  the  disobedient.  How  could  the  people 
in  the  valley  hear  what  was  said  from  these  op¬ 
posite  hills?  Canon  Tristram  visiting  the  region 
tried  an  experiment.  He  placed  a  man  on  either 
hill,  and  ordered  them  to  call  out  aloud  this  very 
passage  of  Scripture.  '  Owing  to  the  wonderful 
acoustic  properties  of  the  neighbourhood,  standing 
in  the  valley  he  could  hear  perfectly  what  each  said. 

Apart  from  a  miracle  how  could  Moses  get  water 
for  the  people  by  striking  a  rock  in  the  desert?  It 
might  seem  impossible  to  some  minds  had  we  not 
confirmation  of  such  a  thing  in  later  days.  On  the 
Russian  Front  during  the  European  War  the  Ger¬ 
man  artillery  had  been  pitilessly  shelling  the  lines. 
It  was  impossible  to  bring  up  food  to  the  men,  but 


126  Problems  that  Perplex 

worse  still,  water  supplies  had  run  out  and  the  sol¬ 
diers  were  almost  mad  with  thirst.  A  shell  burst 
some  distance  behind  the  trenches,  striking  a  huge 
rock,  and  when  the  smoke  had  cleared,  the  men 
saw  to  their  amazement  and  delight  that  with  the 
splintering  of  the  rock  water  was  gushing  out  from 
the  place  like  blood  from  a  wound.  A  hidden  spring 
had  been  unearthed,  and  the  men  drank. 

Another  favourite  quibble  on  the  part  of  the 
rationalist  is  that  about  Elijah  on  Carmel.  There 
had  been  a  long  drought  in  the  land,  and  yet, 
when  the  prophet  offers  his  sacrifice  before  the 
priests  of  Baal,  he  pours  out  twelve  vessels  of  wa¬ 
ter  on  the  altar.  Where  did  the  prophet  get  the 
water  to  waste  in  this  way?  One  look  at  the  map 
will  answer  the  question.  Carmel  is  right  on  the 
sea-coast.  And  there  is  not  a  thing  in  the  text  to 
suggest  that  it  was  fresh  water  that  Elijah  used. 
The  water  came  from  the  sea,  and  so  while  there  is 
nothing  we  need  marvel  at  in  that,  we  cannot  but 
marvel  at  the  way  in  which  some  men  make  difficul¬ 
ties  when  they  come  to  look  at  the  sacred  records. 

One  other  illustration  from  the  Old  Testament 
will  suffice.  Voltaire  scored  what  he  thought  a 
palpable  hit  when  he  referred  to  “the  glasses  and 
the  fine  linen”  in  Isaiah  iii.  23.  Glass,  he  said,  was 
quite  unknown  in  those  days ;  but  we  now  know  that 
glass  ornaments  were  worn  by  one  of  the  Egyptian 
kings,  Sesostris,  and  some  ornaments  dug  up  at 
Mycenae  were  of  glass.  But,  the  Revised  Version 
uses  the  word,  “hand-mirrors”  for  “glasses,”  and 
again  the  French  sceptic  is  caught  napping,  for  the 
mirror  of  the  ancients  was  a  disc  of  polished  bronze 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  127 

such  as  that  referred  to  by  Paul  when  he  says,  “Now 
we  see  in  a  mirror  darkly.” 

Now  turn  to  the  New  Testament.  Amongst 
the  papyri  dug  up  we  have  a  fragment  of  the  Greek 
New  Testament  which  is  about  a  hundred  years 
older  than  the  earliest  manuscript  we  had,  and  also 
a  fourth  century  copy  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 
There  is  another  valuable  fragment  giving  some  of 
the  sayings  of  our  Lord  which  he  have  in  the  Gos¬ 
pels,  also  some  in  more  expanded  form,  and  some 
that  are  quite  new  to  us. 

Other  difficulties  have  been  cleared  up  by  ad¬ 
ditional  evidence  that  has  come  to  light.  For  ex¬ 
ample,  the  census-taking  mentioned  about  our  Lord’s 
nativity  was  questioned  by  some.  Dr.  Moulton  is 
our  authority  for  saying  that  we  have  proof  that 
a  census  was  taken  in  the  year  A.D.  6,  and  that 
we  know  there  was  one  taken  in  the  year  B.c.  8, 
which  is  accepted  as  the  probable  date  of  our  Lord’s 
birth.  But  that  is  not  all.  We  have  found  some 
leaves  from  the  journal  of  a  Roman  official,  in 
which  we  read  the  rescript  from  an  official  in  Egypt 
ordering  every  one  to  return  to  the  country  in 
which  they  usually  lived  so  that  a  census  could  be 
taken  within  six  weeks.  Yet  the  chief  difficulty  was 
about  Quirinius  who  was  supposed  to  have  taken 
the  census  at  the  time  of  the  Nativity.  Quirinius 
held  the  office  of  governor  of  Syria  in  A.D.  6,  so 
how  could  he  be  concerned  with  taking  the  census,  as 
Luke  affirms,  about  B.c.  8?  Was  Luke  mistaken  in 
the  name?  Sir  Wm.  Ramsay  has  given  us  the  an¬ 
swer.  He  dug  up  a  stone  which  plainly  states  that 
Quirinius  was  specially  sent  to  Syria  at  the  time 
in  question  in  order  to  take  the  census.  Further, 


128  Problems  that  Perplex 

Dr.  Zumpt,  an  eminent  scholar,  has  been  able  to 
demonstrate  from  facts  he  adduced  that  Quirinius 
was  twice  governor  of  Syria. 

When  Paul  and  Barnabas  healed  a  lame  man  at 
Lystra,  they  were  hailed  with  joyous  shouts  by  the 
people,  saying,  “The  gods  are  come  down  to  us 
in  the  likeness  of  men.”  Dr.  Moulton  points  out  a 
local  tradition  that  throws  a  flood  of  light  upon 
this  incident.  The  legend  tells  how  Zeus,  the  king 
of  the  gods,  and  Hermes  once  came  to  earth,  but 
none  of  the  people  received  them  except  two  old 
folk  who  offered  them  hospitality.  In  return,  the 
gods  generously  blessed  the  aged  pair  on  their  de¬ 
parture.  So  when  this  miracle  had  been  wrought  by 
Paul,  the  people  evidently  remembering  the  legend 
were  determined  that  on  this  occasion  the  gods 
should  be  duly  honoured,  hence  their  wish  to  do 
sacrifice  to  the  apostles. 

From  the  papyri  we  learn  that  a  man  filling  up 
the  census  form  had  to  give,  among  other  particulars, 
information  of  any  scars  or  marks  he  bore  that 
would  serve  for  purposes  of  identification. 

This  is  precisely  what  obtains  in  filling  up  one’s 
passport  for  Europe  to-day.  Now  here  is  an  in¬ 
teresting  sidelight  on  Paul’s  letter  to  Galatia.  Later, 
when  he  had  been  stoned  by  the  people  of  Lystra 
and  left  for  dead,  he  recovered  and  went  back  to 
comfort  the  Christian  community  that  was  mourn¬ 
ing  for  him.  His  words  to  it  were,  “We  must 
through  much  tribulation  enter  the  kingdom  of 
God.”  He  would  bear  the  marks  of  that  evil  day 
all  his  life,  for  the  cruel  flints  would  leave  many  a 
scar.  So  when  he  writes  to  the  church  of  Galatia, 
reproving  those  who  want  to  make  a  fair  show 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  129 

in  the  flesh,  how  does  he  close  his  letter?  “From 
henceforth,  let  no  man  trouble  me ;  for  I  bear  in  my 
body  the  marks  of  the  Lord  Jesus.” 

Thus  we  have  not  only  tested  truth,  but  time- 
attested  truth;  but  look  for  a  moment  at 

The  Bible  as  Timeless  Truth 

A  piece  of  rope  belonging  to  the  Admiralty  can 
always  be  detected  no  matter  how  long  or  how 
short  the  pieces,  for  it  has  a  red  strand  running 
through  it.  The  Bible  is  like  that.  Though  it  is 
a  progressive  revelation  of  the  will  of  God,  though 
the  standard  of  the  Old  Testament  is  much  lower 
than  the  New,  and  though  there  are  some  pitiable 
tales  of  mistakes  and  failure,  yet  right  through  the 
whole  library  runs  this  red  strand  of  the  Divine 
love  and  purpose.  He  is  the  same  yesterday — and 
to-day,  and  though  man’s  concept  altered  with  time, 
God’s  character  has  been  always  that  which  our 
Lord  revealed,  though  until  the  fulness  of  time  that 
truth  was  not  made  clear. 

The  Bible  contains  the  manifestation  of  the 
Divine  glory  in  the  Person  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  con¬ 
tains  too  all  that  the  soul  needs  for  its  comfort, 
guidance,  salvation  and  sanctification.  “Twice  does 
a  minister  learn  beyond  question,”  says  Dr.  John 
Watson,  “that  the  Bible  contains  the  Word  of 
the  Living  God.  Once  when  he  preaches  the  for¬ 
giveness  of  sins  to  the  penitent,  once  when  he  sees 
a  soul  in  the  greater  straits  of  life  lifted,  comforted, 
and  filled  with  peace  and  joy.”  And  one  has  seen 
the  broken-spirited,  the  sin-smitten,  the  sorrow- 
stricken,  the  hopeless — those  whose  feet  were  tread- 


130  Problems  that  Perplex 

ing  the  dark  ways  of  life  no  less  than  those  whose 
way  lay  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow,  find 
help  and  healing  through  the  ministry  of  the 
Scriptures. 

Nothing  can  be  more  idle  than  to  ask  if  all  other 
books  are  not  inspired.  Of  course  they  are  if  they 
are  “pure,  lovely,  and  of  good  report,”  for  God 
is  the  source  of  all  good.  But  the  proof  of  the 
Bible’s  unique  inspiration  is  in  the  fact  that  it  in¬ 
spires  man  with  the  truth  about  himself,  with  the 
truth  about  life,  with  the  truth  about  the  unsearch- 
able  riches  of  Christ.  Its  message  has  been  sifted, 
tested,  even  ridiculed  by  unbelief,  but  it  remains  the 
undiscredited  revelation  of  God  to  man,  and  noth¬ 
ing  can  take  its  place  nor  wield  the  power  it  pos¬ 
sesses.  Within  its  covers  the  soul  may  find  its 
Saviour,  its  solace,  and  its  satisfaction. 

Dr.  Dale  tells  of  a  Japanese  gentleman  who  was 
of  such  devout  and  noble  temper  that  he  became 
curious  about  him.  Dale  found  that  he  had  made 
many  sacrifices  in  order  to  be  a  Christian,  and  at 
last  he  got  from  the  man  his  story.  He  had  been 
an  earnest  student  of  Confucius,  and  yet  longed  to 
know  more  of  the  benignant  Being  of  whom  Con¬ 
fucius  sometimes  seemed  to  write,  yet  whom  in 
other  places  he  seemed  to  deny,  but  his  enquiries 
led  only  to  unrest  of  heart.  One  day  he  came 
upon  a  Chinese  Bible  that  he  was  advised  to  read, 
simply  for  its  literary  style.  He  commenced  to 
read  i  Corinthians,  and  when  he  reached  the  thir¬ 
teenth  chapter,  he  was  fascinated.  “This  man  must 
have  the  light  of  heaven,”  he  said.  Then  he  turned 
to  the  Gospel  of  John,  and  so  enraptured  was  he 


The  Problem  of  the  Bible  131 

as  he  read  Christ’s  story  that,  to  use  his  own  words, 
“I  could  not  refuse  Him  my  faith.” 

So  it  is  with  every  sincere  mind  that  will  read 
the  book  as  though  it  were  an  ordinary  book,  to 
be  read  with  ordinary  interest  and  intelligence,  re¬ 
membering  that  it  is  more  than  a  book;  it  is  a  col¬ 
lection  of  books.  Such  a  one  will  soon  discover 
that  it  is  the  most  extraordinary  book.  It  speaks 
the  language  of  the  heart:  the  heart  of  man  as 
well  as  the  heart  of  God,  and  all  who  give  to  it 
their  honest  attention,  and  bring  to  bear  on  its 
pages  an  enlightened  mind,  will  find  that  it  is  in¬ 
deed  the  Word  of  the  Living  God. 

“We  search  the  world  for  truth ;  we  cull 
The  good,  the  pure,  the  beautiful; 

And  weary  seekers  of  the  best, 

We  come  back,  laden  from  our  quest, 

To  find  that  all  the  sages  said 
Is  in  the  book  our  mothers  read, 

And  all  the  treasures  of  old  thought 
In  God’s  harmonious  fulness  wrought.” 


VIII 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MIRACLES 

TN  a  famous  story,  Ralph  Connor  describes  a 
service  held  among  the  wild  ranchers  of  the  Al- 
bertas.  It  takes  place  in  the  tavern  parlour,  and 
it  is  all  so  fresh  and  unconventional  that  interest 
is  awakened  at  once.  We  see  the  bronzed  fellows 
sitting  around  on  the  benches  with  a  background 
of  bottles,  and  we  are  not  in  the  least  surprised 
when  an  interruption  takes  place.  The  minister  had 
just  finished  reading  the  story  of  the  Feeding  of 
Five  Thousand,  when  a  cowboy  before  him  asked 
that  he  would  repeat  the  number  of  the  people  and 
the  amount  of  food.  The  answer  was  given:  five 
thousand  people — five  loaves  and  two  fishes.  Then 
with  an  air  of  finality  the  cowboy  drawled,  “Well, 
that’s  a  little  too  unusual  for  me.” 

That  rancher  has  many  sympathisers  to-day. 
Miracles  were  once  felt  to  be  of  supreme  help  to 
faith.  They  pointed  to  the  power  of  God.  They 
proved  the  divinity  of  Christ.  They  made  the  soul 
sure  that  this  was  indeed  the  Anointed  One  be¬ 
cause  He  wrought  such  wondrous  works  before  the 
eyes  of  the  astonished  multitude.  But  to-day  some 
feel  the  miraculous  element  in  the  Gospels  is  not 
a  help  but  a  hindrance.  The  modern  man  has 
heard  so  much  about  natural  law  that  any  inter¬ 
ference  with  it  is  almost  unthinkable.  And  the  state- 


132 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  133 

ments  of  the  scientist,  more  than  the  sneers  of 
the  sceptic,  have  left  him  with  hardly  a  shred  of 
faith  in  the  miraculous.  He  admires  the  Master. 
He  acknowledges  the  sublimity  of  His  character, 
and  the  soundness  of  His  teaching.  But  between 
the  writers  of  the  Gospels  and  those  of  some  pres¬ 
ent-day  articles,  he  hardly  knows  what  to  think. 

Admittedly,  the  whole  truth  of  the  Gospels  seems 
bound  up  with  a  belief  in  miracles.  Then  how  can 
a  man  accept  some  statements  about  our  Lord  and 
reject  others,  and  still  retain  his  faith  in  the  Christ 
of  Christianity?  Before  setting  out  the  grounds 
of  possible  belief  in  miracles,  let  us  make  this  clear: 
We  do  not  believe  in  Christ  because  of  the  miracles, 
but  we  believe  in  miracles  because  of  Christ. 

The  Possibility  of  Miracles 

We  can  no  more  take  away  the  element  of  the 
miraculous  from  the  Gospels  without  impairing 
the  glory  of  Christ  than  we  can  take  a  number 
of  threads  from  a  tapestry  without  marring  the 
beauty  of  the  design,  for  as  Dr.  Bruce  points  out, 
the  miraculous  “is  no  mere  excrescence  or  external 
adjunct  easily  separable  from  the  body  of  the  his¬ 
tory,  but  an  essential  portion  of  it,  closely  woven 
into  the  fabric,  vitally  connected  with  the  organism. 
Words  and  works  are  so  united  that  the  one  di¬ 
vorced  from  the  other  would  in  many  cases  become 
unintelligible.”  Thus  the  case  is  a  serious  one,  the 
problem  is  of  prime  importance.  It  involves  be¬ 
lieving  in  Christ  and  miracles  or  disbelief  in  both. 

Such  an  alternative  does  not  trouble  the  Ration¬ 
alist.  He  says  quite  frankly  that  he  does  not  believe 


134  Problems  that  Ferplex 

in  the  possibility  of  miracles,  urging  as  his  warrant 
that  the  world  is  governed  by  laws  that  are  in¬ 
violable.  The  progress  of  physical  science,  our  ex¬ 
tended  knowledge  of  those  laws,  tend  to  strengthen 
his  position,  for  miraculous  intervention  would  seem 
to  suggest  imperfection  in  the  Creator,  and  would 
introduce  disorder.  Thus,  in  an  oft-quoted  pas¬ 
sage,  Goethe  says,  “A  voice  from  heaven  would  not 
convince  me  that  water  burned  or  a  dead  man  rose 
again.” 

But  we  may  pertinently  ask,  what  are  these  nat¬ 
ural  laws?  Before  it  is  possible  to  say  dogmatically 
that  the  universe  is  governed  by  immutable  laws, 
we  must  be  sure  that  we  know  everything  about  the 
universe  and  its  control.  If  we  do  not — and  the 
witness  of  the  scientist  is  to  the  effect  that  we  do 
not —  then  how  can  the  Rationalist  reasonably  af¬ 
firm  that  exceptions  to  the  rule  are  impossible?  The 
fact  that  something  happens  that  we  cannot  explain, 
or  happens  only  at  rare  intervals,  is  no  proof  that 
natural  law  has  been  broken.  “The  reasonable 
scientific  view,”  says  an  eminent  thinker,  “is  that  a 
complete  knowledge  of  nature  would  enable  us  to 
recognise  the  rationale  of  every  event  which  ever 
occurred  or  ever  can  occur;  and  so  it  would  seem 
to  follow  concerning  any  given  apparent  prodigy — 
either  that  it  did  not  happen  as  related,  or  else 
that  it  happened  in  accordance  with  natural  laws  of 
which  at  present  we  are  more  or  less  ignorant.” 

We  may  therefore  take  it  for  granted  that  we 
have  as  yet  but  gathered  a  few  shells  on  the  strand 
of  knowledge,  and  there  is  this  further  significant 
fact  to  note :  the  wisdom  of  the  Eternal  Mind  is 
unsearchable.  We  do  not  know  what  is  possible 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  135 

or  Impossible  when  we  come  to  the  workings  of  the 
Almighty,  except  that  we  know  there  can  be  nothing 
inconsistent  or  self-contradictory  in  His  acts.  How 
then  can  we  dogmatically  assert  that  miracles  are 
impossible?  And  if,  as  we  hold,  the  Divine  was 
incarnate  In  Jesus  Christ,  “all  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  bodily,”  who  are  we  to  block  the  road 
to  faith  with  our  chatter  about  natural  laws? 

We  are  continually  interfering  with  some  natural 
laws  by  introducing  higher  laws,  but  that  does  not 
necessarily  mean  disorder  and  chaos.  Man  builds 
a  dam  and  alters  the  course  of  a  mighty  river.  His 
cranes  and  pumps  continually  abrogate  the  law  of 
gravitation.  The  physician  finds  a  man  In  the  grip 
of  certain  natural  laws,  and  he  sets  out  to  render 
relief  by  working  in  accordance  with  other  natural 
laws  which  supersede  the  former  and  restore  health. 
The  fact  is  that  mind  is  superior  to  matter.  Per¬ 
sonality  introduces  a  new  power  that  can  affect  the 
natural  order,  and  yet  do  it  in  the  most  orderly 
way.  Let  us  put  it  in  homely  fashion.  We  saw 
an  ant  one  day  that  had  slipped  into  a  bowl  of 
water.  It  was  battling  for  life,  and  as  we  watched, 
its  struggles  became  gradually  weaker.  Natural 
law  Involved  death  from  drowning.  But  just  when 
It  must  have  seemed  that  the  end  had  come,  we 
poured  the  water  away.  The  ant  remained  for  a 
little  time,  and  then  it  slowly  went  on.  A  miracle 
had  saved  its  life!  Yet  was  it  a  miracle?  To  the 
ant,  though  the  scriptural  writer  enlarges  on  its  In¬ 
telligence,  and  bids  the  sluggard  learn  a  lesson  from 
It,  it  meant  nothing  of  the  kind.  If  It  knew  any¬ 
thing  about  its  experience  It  was  just  that  It  had 
been  struggling  In  the  water,  and  then  that  the  water 


136  Problems  that  Perplex 

was  gone.  The  fact  remains :  there  had  been  inter¬ 
vention.  Some  new  power,  acting  in  accordance 
with  other  natural  laws  of  which  the  ant  was  en¬ 
tirely  ignorant,  had  been  operating  on  its  behalf, 
and  though  the  whole  of  ant-philosophy  might  con¬ 
tradict  such  a  possibility,  we  can  see  how  simple  and 
natural  the  whole  proceeding.  The  intelligence  of 
the  ant  is  marvellous,  but  compared  with  that  of 
man  it  is  infinitesimal.  Is  it  not  possible  that  there 
is  at  least  as  much  difference  between  the  mind  of 
finite  man  and  that  of  the  Infinite? 

If  those  who  lived  say  a  century  ago  could  see 
the  world  as  we  know  it  now,  they  would  be  loud 
in  their  commendation  of  “miracles”  that  we  regard 
as  commonplace  happenings.  Suppose  they  heard 
one  of  the  Atlantic  aviators  say  in  London,  “When 
I  was  in  America  yesterday  .  .  .”  what  would 
they  think?  And  when  told  that  the  man  was  speak¬ 
ing  sober  truth,  that  he  had  flown  through  the  air, 
how  could  they  reconcile  that  with  natural  law? 
Or  if  they  were  shown  a  message  received  from  a 
vessel  in  mid-Atlantic,  or  were  told  that  by  means 
of  the  telephone,  they  could  talk  with  a  friend 
in  Paris,  would  they  believe  that  the  age  of  mira¬ 
cles  is  past?  They  are  shown  a  photograph  of  a 
living  man,  revealing  not  only  the  bones  of  his  body 
but  some  foreign  substance,  say  a  piece  of  metal  em¬ 
bedded  in  the  flesh,  but  never  having  heard  of 
X  Ray,  it  would  tax  their  credulity  to  the  full. 
And  the  wonderful  properties  of  Radium  with  its 
age-long  emanations,  the  wizardry  of  the  chemist 
who  extracts  the  delicate  aniline  dyes  from  the  foul 
residues  of  coal,  would  leave  them  aghast  at  the 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  137 

awful  powers  man’s  genius  has  discovered.  All  of 
which  things  are  analogous. 

The  Creator  of  the  universe  may  conceivably 
act  in  accordance  with  unknown  laws  that  are  yet 
as  valid  and  natural  as  any  we  know.  He  is  not 
necessarily  contradicting  Himself,  nor  is  He  inter¬ 
fering  with  the  cosmic  order  of  which  we  are  so 
sure.  It  is  just  as  probable  that  when  the  divine 
Son  became  incarnate,  He  too  had  power  to  work 
cures,  to  feed  the  hungry,  to  give  sight  to  the 
blind  and  life  to  the  dead,  by  obeying  higher  laws 
of  which  we  know  little  or  nothing.  At  least,  if 
the  Christian  evangel  be  true,  if  Christ  was  indeed 
one  with  the  Father,  He  was  free  and  unfettered 
by  the  world  He  called  into  being.  Pantheism  is 
impossible  for  the  thinking  Christian;  God  is  not 
imprisoned  in  His  universe.  Deism  is  equally  un¬ 
thinkable  for  those  who  hold  that  the  Godhead  is 
best  known  by  the  attributes  of  fatherhood.  Given 
a  God  who  is  supreme,  and  a  Saviour  who  is  the 
eternal  Son  of  God,  we  cannot  deny  the  possibility 
of  the  miraculous,  for  after  all,  what  we  call  the 
laws  that  govern  the  natural  world  are  simply  the 
result  of  our  observation  of  that  world  over  a  com¬ 
paratively  brief  period  of  its  existence. 

Spinoza’s  views  on  the  possibility  of  miracles 
have  often  been  cited.  He  lays  down  the  propo¬ 
sition  that  “nothing  happens  in  nature  which  is  in 
contradiction  with  its  universal  laws.”  And  that 
seems  quite  reasonable.  But  on  closer  examination 
we  come  to  see  that  such  a  statement  can  be  ac¬ 
cepted  only  if  we  assume  that  everything — the 
power  of  God  no  less  than  the  power  that  man 
wields — is  included  in  his  term,  nature.  We  cer- 


138  Problems  that  Perplex 

tainly  cannot  exclude  God’s  working  from  the  uni¬ 
verse  He  has  made,  nor  can  we  admit  that  such 
working  must  result  in  confusion  and  disorder.  Were 
this  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds,  it  might  be  dif¬ 
ferent,  but  we  have  to  allow  for  the  fact  that 
through  the  misuse  of  man’s  powers  of  free  will, 
through  the  thwarting  of  the  divine  purpose  by  sin, 
the  world  is  far  from  perfect.  Godet,  called  as  a 
witness  by  Trench,  is  still  worth  hearing.  “If  na¬ 
ture  as  it  now  is  be  a  sketch  from  which,  with  the 
concurrence  of  a  free  creation,  a  superior  work  will 
be  brought  out,  wherein  matter  will  be  simply  the 
organ  and  the  reflection  of  the  spirit,  miracle  is  to 
the  eyes  of  the  thinker  the  early  vision  and  antici¬ 
patory  prelude  of  the  new  order  of  things.  It  is 
not  a  sum  total,  but  an  earnest.” 

With  the  object  of  raising  man  to  the  true  plane 
of  life,  miracles  were  utilised  for  the  divine  ends, 
either  by  employing  higher  laws  of  which  we  are 
ignorant,  or  by  some  special  spiritual  intervention. 
So  admitting  that  our  knowledge  is  imperfect,  that 
even  in  the  world  about  us  there  are  many  things 
we  cannot  yet  explain,  we  cannot  deny  the  possibil¬ 
ity  of  the  miraculous  in  a  universe  in  which  God 
is  supreme. 

The  Credibility  of  Miracles 

It  is  a  matter  of  common  knowledge  that  every 
wonderful  teacher  or  man  of  outstanding  personal 
gifts  who  played  his  part  in  the  arena  of  the 
ancient  world  was  often  credited  with  the  working 
of  marvels.  Thus  pious  legends  gathered  round 
the  names  of  such  men.  Are  we  rightly  to  assume 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  139 

that  it  is  possible  that  the  miracles  of  Jesus  are 
also  myths?  We  might,  did  we  not  believe  in  Him 
as  the  Eternal  Son,  and  for  this  fact  on  which  too* 
much  emphasis  cannot  be  laid:  the  growth  of  such 
legends  demands  a  considerable  time,  amounting  to 
centuries.  There  was  no  such  lapse  of  time  in  the 
case  of  Christ.  Mark,  the  earliest  of  our  Gospels, 
was  written  only  about  thirty  years  after  the  death 
of  Jesus,  but  earlier  still  we  have  some  of  the  let¬ 
ters  of  Paul  which,  while  they  do  not  specifically 
mention  the  miracles  wrought,  bear  clearest  testi¬ 
mony  to  One  to  whom  such  mighty  works  were 
possible,  and  who  was  Himself  the  Lord  of  life. 

But  as  we  have  already  said,  it  is  impossible 
to  separate  the  miraculous  from  the  ministry  of 
the  Master.  We  have  not  only  the  witness  of  those 
who  saw  with  their  own  eyes  the  wonderful  work¬ 
ing  of  His  power,  but  we  have  also  the  combined 
effect  that  such  works  made  upon  both  His  friends 
and  His  foes.  That  the  disciples  were  impressed 
goes  without  saying,  for  the  more  they  saw  of  His 
compassion  for  the  suffering  and  the  stricken,  the 
more  they  realised  that  Christ  was  One  who  did 
more  than  simply  sympathise.  That  those  who 
were  the  recipients  of  His  bounty  were  the  more 
ready  to  believe  in  His  teaching  is  also  easily  un¬ 
derstood.  But  the  most  significant  witness  to  the 
miracles  wrought  is  that  of  those  who  opposed 
Jesus,  in  season  and  out  of  season.  These  were 
not  the  untutored  who  might  be  readily  imposed 
upon  by  subtle  magic,  nor  were  they  willing  to 
credit  Him  with  supernatural  powers  He  did  not 
possess.  On  the  contrary,  they  were  the  keenest 
minds  of  that  day,  bent  on  discrediting  the  new 


140  Problems  that  Perplex 

Teacher  because  of  His  rigid  opposition  to  their 
formal  and  pitiless  religion. 

What  was  their  attitude?  They  did  not  deny 
that  He  wrought  cures,  that  He  did  what  no  other 
man  had  done,  that  He  possessed  supernormal 
powers.  They  were  witnesses  to  the  possibility  of 
miracles  though  without  a  thought  that  their  very 
antagonism  might  serve  to  vindicate  Christ.  But 
they  sought  to  explain  His  power  by  affirming  that 
He  was  in  league  with  the  devil.  They  made  no 
secret  of  the  fact  that  He  did  possess  miraculous 
powers,  but  by  attributing  them  to  evil  influences 
they  tried  to  ffiminish  their  value  and  to  discredit 
the  Worker.  “This  fellow  doth  not  cast  out  devils 
but  by  Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the  devils.”  Christ 
took  up  the  challenge.  He  asked  them  how  a 
house  that  was  divided  against  itself  could  hope  to 
stand,  and  how,  if  Satan  cast  out  Satan,  such  a 
course  could  be  of  service  to  the  cause  of  evil? 
Then  He  turned  to  them  with  a  further  question,  “If 
I  by  Beelzebub  cast  out  devils,  by  whom  do  your 
children  cast  them  out?  But  if  I  cast  out  devils 
by  the  Spirit  of  God,  then  the  kingdom  of  God  is 
come  unto  you.” 

That  brings  us  to  another  point  of  interest.  Sup¬ 
pose  the  Pharisees  were  right,  what  would  be  the 
character  of  such  miracle  working?  Would  it  not 
be  for  the  personal  advancement  of  the  worker  or 
of  his  master?  Yet  when  we  scan  the  record  of 
the  Gospels  we  cannot  get  away  from  this  fact, 
that  Jesus  refuses  to  work  a  miracle  when  it  is 
merely  to  benefit  Himself,  as  for  instance,  the 
turning  of  stones  into  bread  in  the  wilderness,  and 
that  the  powers  He  had  were  consistently  employed 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  141 

for  the  good  of  mankind.  He  will  not  gratify 
men’s  curiosity  by  a  display  of  His  powers  when 
He  knows  that  though  He  might  thus  prove  His 
credentials  as  a  divinely  sent  Teacher,  their  motive 
is  simply  to  see  what  He  can  do.  “The  Pharisees 
came  forth  and  began  to  question  Him,  seeking 
of  Him  a  sign  from  heaven,  tempting  Him.  And 
he  sighed  deeply  in  His  spirit  and  saith.  Why  doth 
this  generation  seek  after  a  sign?  verily  I  say  unto 
you,  there  shall  no  sign  be  given  unto  this  gen¬ 
eration.” 

This  is  surely  very  unusual.  In  the  preceding 
verses  He  had  just  shown  His  power  to  satisfy 
the  hunger  of  four  thousand  people.  He  had  over 
and  over  again  proved  that  He  could  do  mighty 
works  by  the  extraordinary  powers  He  wielded 
over  both  organic  and  inorganic  nature.  What  ob¬ 
ject  had  He  in  refusing  to  prove  His  divinity  when 
proof  was  demanded,  and  what  was  the  end  He 
had  in  view  in  working  miracles  at  all? 

The  answer  depends  entirely  upon  Christ’s  mis¬ 
sion.  He  came  into  the  world  for  the  purpose  of 
revealing  the  heart  of  God,  and  reaching  the  heart 
of  man,  and  miracles  served  this  twofold  end.  For 
one  thing,  in  spite  of  all  the  prophets  and  psalmists 
had  done,  God  remained  largely  the  unknown  and 
the  unknowable.  He  was  erroneously  regarded  as 
remote  from  the  common  affairs  of  human  life,  for 
He  was  the  All-holy  and  the  Awful.  Thus  the 
miracles  wrought  by  our  Lord  tend  not  only  to 
show  that  God  is  personal  and  powerful,  sovereign 
over  the  natural  world,  but  also  that  in  character, 
He  is  as  tender  and  compassionate  as  a  mother.  So 
we  have  not  only  the  stilling  of  the  tempest  on  the 


142  Problems  that  Perplex 

Lake,  but  the  quietening  of  those  tempests  that 
surge  in  the  human  heart.  We  see  not  only  the 
five  thousand  and  the  four  thousand  fed  in  the  hour 
of  their  need,  but  succour  stretched  out  to  a  widow 
whose  only  son  was  being  borne  to  his  burial,  and 
to  a  common  beggar  who  incited  only  enough  pity 
to  ensure  him  having  a  stray  copper  flung  in  his 
direction.  Not  only  is  God  seen  to  care  for  the 
sorrows  and  sufferings  of  humanity,  but  humanity 
itself  is  invested  with  a  new  value.  The  most  loath¬ 
some  leper,  the  humblest  sufferer,  the  most  obscure 
life  shadowed  with  grief,  are  all  the  concern  of 
the  Eternal  Love.  We  can  no  more  believe  in  mira¬ 
cles  without  Christ  as  far  as  the  New  Testament 
is  concerned,  than  we  can  believe  in  Christ  without 
miracles,  for  He  is  the  Divine  Love  incarnate,  and 
all  the  pity  of  the  Father’s  heart  finds  expression 
in  the  Son’s  actions. 

This  leads  us  to  another  important  matter : 

The  Compatibility  of  Miracles  with  the 
Character  of  Christ 

Mrs.  Humphrey  Ward  made  a  sensation  some 
years  ago  with  one  of  her  books,  “Robert  Elsmere,” 
for  she  there  depicted  one  who,  while  he  found 
himself  less  and  less  able  to  credit  the  miraculous, 
yet  found  himself  more  and  more  in  love  with 
the  great  Figure  of  the  Gospels.  But  we  maintain 
that  such  a  position  is  not  only  a  false  one,  but  it  is 
also  needless.  The  miracles  of  the  Master  are  at  one 
with  the  whole  spirit  of  His  ministry,  and  are 
simply  what  He  led  men  to  expect  when,  in  the 
Synagogue  of  His  boyhood’s  home.  He  read  the 
thrilling  words  of  the  ancient  prophet,  and  applied 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  143 

them  to  Himself.  “The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is 
upon  Me,  because  He  hath  anointed  Me  to  preach 
the  gospel  to  the  poor:  He  hath  sent  Me  to  heal 
the  broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliverance  to  the 
captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind,  to 
set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised,  to  preach  the 
acceptable  year  of  the  Lord.”  The  Master  and 
the  miracles  are  indissolubly  one.  “They  are  so 
essentially  a  part  of  the  character  depicted  in  the 
Gospels,”  says  Professor  Illingworth,  “that  without 
them  that  character  would  entirely  disappear.  They 
flow  naturally  from  a  Person  who,  despite  His 
obvious  humanity,  impresses  us  as  being  at  home  in 
two  worlds.” 

That  being  so,  we  may  well  look  at  the  two¬ 
fold  function  which  miracles  were  meant  to  per¬ 
form.  Some  of  them  seem  to  have  been  done 
simply  out  of  sheer  compassion  for  a  soul  in  straits. 
No  moral  is  attached  to  them;  no  advantage  is 
taken  of  the  kindly  service  rendered.  But  in  other 
cases  a  definite  lesson  follows.  The  work  of  heal¬ 
ing  is  followed  by  words  of  spiritual  healing,  ad¬ 
dressed  to  the  individual  concerned,  or  to  those 
who  have  been  looking  on. 

While  such  deeds  could  not  but  point  to  Christ 
as  the  possessor  of  supernatural  powers,  and  must 
give  weight  to  His  teaching,  there  is,  however,  an¬ 
other  use  to  which  Jesus  put  them,  a  use  some¬ 
times  lost  sight  of  in  our  discussions.  They  were 
the  golden  key  that  unlocked  the  door  of  the  heart. 
Tennyson  has  reminded  us  that 

“Truth  embodied  in  a  tale 
Shall  enter  in  at  lowly  doors.” 


144  Problems  that  Perplex 

And  if  some  of  the  most  valuable  lessons  Christ 
taught  were  contained  in  His  matchless  parables, 
is  it  not  equally  true  that  He  also  used  His  mira¬ 
cles  for  the  same  end?  Over  and  over  again  He 
supplies  the  physical  needs  of  man  only  to  point 
out  deeper  needs  of  the  spiritual  life  of  which  the 
man  is  but  dimly  conscious.  He  heals  the  palsied 
man  only  to  say  to  him  and  the  critical  onlookers, 
“Son,  be  of  good  cheer;  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee.” 
He  recalls  the  feeding  of  the  people  that  He  may 
teach  His  disciples  to  beware  of  the  leaven  of  the 
Pharisees.  And  the  man  born  blind  receives  his 
sight  only  later  to  be  shown  privately  that  his  eyes 
look  on  the  Son  of  God.  Thus  man’s  need  of 
God’s  help  that  he  may  lead  a  full  and  complete  life 
is  demonstrated,  and  all  the  time,  a  track  is  being 
trodden  that  leads  direct  to  the  door  of  the  soul. 

There  is  more  than  physical  good  in  every 
miracle  Christ  wrought.  Every  one  of  them  is 
capable  of  spiritual  interpretation,  without  in  the 
least  explaining  them  away.  He  gives  sight  to  the 
blind  that  men  may  know  there  is  spiritual  blind¬ 
ness  that  He  can  remove,  showing  to  their  aston¬ 
ished  eyes  the  glory  of  the  Godhead.  He  cleanses 
the  leper,  demonstrating  His  power  to  cleanse  the 
soul  from  the  leprosy  of  sin.  He  restores  the  pow¬ 
ers  of  healing  and  speech  that  men  may  understand 
that  He  can  enable  them  to  hear  the  Divine  voice, 
and  declare  the  wondrous  ways  of  God.  He  de¬ 
livers  the  possessed  that  He  may  teach  men  that 
their  bodies  ought  to  be  the  temple  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  He  heals  the  sick,  comforts  the  sorrowful, 
gives  power  to  the  paralysed,  that  the  truth  may 
dawn  on  the  soul  that  it  is  sick  and  needs  holiness, 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  145 

(for  the  terms  health  and  holiness  spring  from  the 
same  root-word),  that  God  is  the  source  of  comfort 
and  of  power  to  enable  man  to  live  aright.  He 
feeds  the  multitude  that  they  may  understand  that 
the  soul’s  hunger  can  be  satisfied  only  by  the  Bread 
of  Life,  and  He  turns  water  into  wine  to  show 
how  the  Divine  touch  can  transform  the  common¬ 
place,  and  make  even  man’s  pleasure  richer  and 
more  enjoyable.  While  at  His  word  the  dead  are 
restored  to  life  that  all  may  realise  that  He  is  the 
Prince  of  Life,  over  wdiom  even  death  and  the 
grave  cannot  exert  their  spell. 

“And  so  the  Word  had  breath,  and  wrought 
With  human  hands  the  creed  of  creeds 
In  loveliness  of  perfect  deeds, 

More  strong  than  all  poetic  thought.” 

Just  as  to-day  the  medical  missionary  often  opens 
a  door  for  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  awakening 
interest  in  the  tree  of  faith  by  first  showing  some 
of  the  ripe  fruits  of  love  and  sympathy  that  grow 
there,  so  in  the  days  of  His  earthly  ministry  Christ 
often  found  a  way  into  lives  that  otherwise  might 
have  been  barred  by  the  strong  bolts  of  prejudice. 
Sometimes,  it  is  true.  He  seems  to  have  been  embar¬ 
rassed  by  the  popularity  that  some  cure  brought, 
but  that  must  have  been  when  people  sought  Him 
simply  as  a  wonder-worker  and  not  as  the  Revealer 
of  God  to  men.  At  other  times  He  was  unwilling 
to  work  miracles  because  of  the  atmosphere  of 
suspicion  and  unbelief  in  which  He  found  Himself. 
Speaking  broadly,  the  miraculous  was  made  a 
means  to  the  one  end  He  had  before  Him.  He 
came  with  a  message  to  men :  salvation  was  to 


146  Froblems  that  Perplex 

satisfy  the  deepest  needs  of  the  human  heart,  and 
they  were  to  realise  that  none  is  beyond  the  reach 
of  God’s  good  grace,  nor  is  anything  impossible 
with  God. 

The  Continuity  of  Miracles 

If  miracles  were  of  such  value  as  evidence  of 
the  divinity  of  Jesus,  and  if  they  conferred  such 
blessings  on  mankind,  how  is  it  that  the  age  of 
miracles  is  past?  That  is  a  question  that  many 
are  asking.  If  “His  touch  hath  still  its  ancient 
power,”  why  do  we  not  see  that  hand  still  stretched 
out  to  alleviate  the  suffering  and  remove  the  misery 
of  men?  The  reply  is  that  if  they  were  employed 
mainly  as  a  means  of  reaching  the  heart  and  com¬ 
mending  the  truth  of  the  new  revelation,  their  ob¬ 
ject  has  been  gained.  The  use  of  symbols  passes 
with  growth  in  knowledge. 

A  child  is  first  taught  by  means  of  pictures.  It 
learns  the  alphabet  by  its  blocks  and  books  in  which 
“A”  stands  almost  invariably  for  apple,  and  “B” 
for  ball,  but  as  its  mind  develops,  it  readily  grasps 
that  those  letters  may  stand  for  other  things  as  well, 
and  the  larger  meaning  is  conveyed  to  the  mind. 
It  learns  to  count  with  beads  on  a  frame,  or  with 
its  chubby  fingers  outstretched,  but  later,  those 
means  of  reckoning  pass.  So  it  is  with  man  in  things 
spiritual.  The  Mosaic  sacrifices  and  cleansings  were 
but  symbols  of  greater  and  more  abstract  things 
that  could  be  apprehended  only  in  the  concrete.  The 
symbols  have  been  superseded;  the  facts  remain. 

There  is  no  need  for  our  Lord  to  ask  men  to 
believie  that  He  is  the  Christ  for  the  very  work’s 


^  The  Problem  of  Miracles  147 

sake,  if  we  limit  His  meaning  to  the  miracles  He 
wrought  before  them.  Yet  His  appeal  is  still  to 
His  work.  He  points  the  enquirer  to  the  changed 
lives  that  result  from  faith  in  His  saving  power. 
He  is  constantly  acquiring  new  evidence  of  the  bene¬ 
fits  He  has  conferred  upon  the  race.  In  every  great 
movement  of  reform,  His  spirit  has  been  mani¬ 
fested  not  only  in  the  chivalry  and  heroism  of  the 
men  who  went  forth  to  suffer  for  the  right  and  to 
die  for  the  sake  of  freedom,  but  also  in  the  self- 
sacrificing  service  of  that  great  multitude  which  no 
man  can  number  who  have  given  their  strength  and 
their  sympathy  to  the  stricken  and  the  sorrowful. 
His  healing  ministry  was  not  confined  to  the  first 
century;  it  is  going  on  still  at  the  present  day, 
for  not  only  must  we  call  in  that  divine  example 
if  we  are  to  explain  the  devotion  of  the  doctors 
and  nurses  in  our  hospitals  but  we  must  still  make 
place  for  some  of  the  forces  our  Master  employed 
in  His  healing  art. 

Long  ago.  Dr.  Bruce  wrote,  “It  is  conceivable 
that  medical  science  may  yet  penetrate  the  secret 
of  Christ’s  healing  ministry,  just  as  it  is  possible, 
and  we  may  hope  probable,  that  the  causes  and 
cures  of  such  fatal  diseases  as  cholera  and  con¬ 
sumption  will  yet  be  discovered.  When  that  day 
comes  moral  therapeutics  will  be  a  recognised 
branch  of  medical  art,  and  many  of  the  evangelic 
“miracles”  of  healing  will  be  miracles  no  longer, 
but  natural  cures;  or  at  most  it  will  be  recognised 
that  Jesus  possessed  in  a  remarkable  degree  powers 
over  diseases  having  their  roots  in  men’s  mental 
and  moral  nature,  which  in  kind  were  common  to 
Him  with  other  men.”  That  does  not  detract  aught 


140  rroblems  that  rerplex 

from  the  real  splendour  of  Christ’s  powers.  It 
simply  proves  that  just  as  His  work  of  teaching 
has  been  continued  through  His  church,  so  His 
work  of  healing  has  been  committed  to  men  whose 
gifts  and  whose  skill  are  but  part  of  the  divine  en¬ 
dowment.  The  powers  of  suggestion  have  been 
utilised  with  marked  success  in  certain  cases,  and 
a  record  of  some  of  the  cures  that  have  been  ob¬ 
tained  and  of  some  of  the  operations  that  have  been 
performed  by  our  surgeons  would  amaze  many  peo¬ 
ple.  It  is  true  that  these  successes  cannot  be  called 
miracles,  for  we  know  that  they  are  the  result  of 
acting  in  accordance  with  certain  known  natural 
laws.  But  again  we  affirm  that  the  true  idea  of  our 
Lord’s  miracles  is  that  they  are  in  accordance  with 
higher  natural  laws  of  which  then  people  knew 
nothing,  but  of  which  to-day  we  have  some  knowl¬ 
edge.  “The  only  thing  that  prevents  our  calling 
the  whole  operation  a  miracle,”  says  Sir  Oliver 
Lodge  in  another  connection,  “is  that  we  are  so 
thoroughly  accustomed  to  the  occurrence.”  And 
those  words  apply  to  the  whole  of  the  healing  art 
as  practised  to-day. 

That  such  work  is  going  on,  coupled  with  the 
comfort  and  counsel  that  are  constantly  reaching 
the  human  heart  through  the  agency  of  men  and 
women  of  God  in  the  churches,  removes  the  neces¬ 
sity  for  the  precise  type  of  miracle  wrought  by 
Jesus.  And  this  remains  to  be  said:  His  emphasis 
is  always  not  on  physical  or  material  well-being, 
I  but  on  the  spiritual.  To  demand  a  repetition  of 
physical  miracles  is  to  misunderstand  the  whole  pur¬ 
pose  of  our  Lord’s  work.  The  man  himself  is  more 
than  either  food  or  raiment,  and  though  he  were 


The  Problem  of  Miracles  149 

to  gain  the  whole  world  that  would  be  a  sorry 
bargain  if  he  were  to  lose  himself  in  doing  it. 

Christ  proved  His  case.  He  revealed  God  as 
a  free  Spirit,  supreme  in  the  universe  He  created. 
He  revealed  the  divine  heart  as  full  of  loving 
pity  and  yearning  solicitude  for  the  souls  of  men. 
God  is  still  intervening  in  His  own  way,  giving 
strength  to  the  weak,  aiding  the  tempted  to  over¬ 
come  the  habits  and  allurements  of  evil,  helping  the 
soul  to  triumph  over  circumstances  and  to  realise 
the  value  of  communion  and  dependence  upon  the 
unseen.  Is  not  that  miracle  enough?  As  Coventry 
Patmore  sings : 

“Be  not  amazed  at  life;  ’tis  still 

The  mode  of  God  with  His  elect, 

Their  hopes  exactly  to  fulfil 

In  times  and  ways  they  least  expect.” 

Though  God  may  hide  His  tracks  or  seem  to  be 
indifferent  to  the  trials  and  troubles  of  the  race, 
He  has  put  within  the  reach  of  man  the  power  to 
work  mighty  wonders  in  the  world,  to  cure  some 
of  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to,  and  to  remedy  many 
of  the  evils  and  injustices  under  which  the  race 
groans. 

So  with  the  possibility  of  miracles,  their  credi¬ 
bility,  their  compatibility  with  the  character  of 
Christ,  and  their  continuity  though  in  different 
guise,  man  need  let  the  problem  of  miracles  trouble 
him  no  longer.  With  God  all  things  are  possible ! 

“Earth’s  crammed  with  heaven, 

And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God ; 

But  only  he  who  sees  takes  off  his  shoes.” 


IX 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  ATONEMENT 

IT  is  not  our  view  of  the  Atonement  that  saves 
us,”  says  Professor  Peake,  “and  it  would  be  an 
evil  day  for  the  future  of  Christianity  when  the 
acceptance  of  a  particular  theory  of  the  work  of 
Christ  should  be  made  necessary  to  salvation.” 
With  this  statement  of  one  of  the  soundest  and 
sanest  of  our  theologians  most  of  us  will  agree. 
Yet  we  have  a  feeling  that  on  this  sacred  mystery 
it  were  better  to  be  silent.  Discussion  of  the  de¬ 
tails  of  our  Lord’s  passion  seem  out  of  place,  as 
much  out  of  place  as  the  thoughtless  chatter  of  a 
garrulous  school-girl  might  be  as  we  stood,  awe¬ 
struck  and  dumb,  upon  the  snow-clad  Alpine  heights, 
watching  the  splendid  sovereign  of  the  day  pierce 
the  morning  mists  and  transform  the  vast  solitudes 
with  his  aureate  smile.  Wonder  wraps  the  soul 
about.  Speech  seems  sacrilege.  We  stand  in  the 
presence  of  God  Himself,  and  the  very  stones  be¬ 
neath  our  feet  seem  holy  ground. 

But  on  such  a  theme  silence  may  be  more  profane 
than  speech.  There  are  some  who  would  fain  know 
the  meaning  of  this  mysterious  light,  the  light  of 
love  divine,  that  breaks  on  the  dark  world  of  man’s 
sin,  and  because  their  words  are  not  idle  chatter, 
but  the  language  of  the  soul  in  straits,  can  we  be 

150 


The  Troblem  of  the  Atonement  151 

unmindful?  Can  we  bid  such  who  stand  in  the 
crowd  about  the  cross  simply  to  look  up  in  silent 
adoration?  For  these  are  sincere  seekers  of  the 
solution  by  which  alone  peace  may  be  possible. 

“Why  should  God  allow  His  son  to  suffer  for 
us?  If  it  violates  my  sense  of  justice  for  an  in¬ 
nocent  man  to  be  punished  that  I  may  go  scot-free, 
how  can  it  satisfy  the  Eternal  Justice?  It  does 
not  seem  right  I”  So  spake  one  who  was  striving 
to  reconcile  his  own  moral  sense  with  some  of  the 
theories  of  the  Atonement  he  had  heard.  And 
while,  happily,  as  Professor  Peake  points  out,  “Is 
it  not  our  view  of  the  Atonement  that  saves  us,” 
unhappily,  the  lack  of  a  definite  view  leaves  us  on 
the  brink  of  despair.  Learned  discussions  of  the 
“Penal  satisfaction”  theory,  that  of  moral  influence, 
or  the  mystical  theory,  may  yet  leave  us  still  wan¬ 
dering  amid  a  maze  of  words,  when  our  hearts  are 
longing  for  the  Father’s  word  of  forgiveness,  and 
our  weary  feet  would  fain  rest  in  the  Father’s 
house. 

Now  to  us,  the  glory  of  the  gospel  is  that  it  is 
the  unveiling  of  the  Father’s  face.  God  was  the 
unseen,  and  largely  the  unknown.  Man  felt  that 
there  was  a  Power  above  him.  He  had  seen  the 
D  ivine  handiwork  in  the  stars  that  decked  the 
midnight  sky,  and  in  the  gorgeous  flowers  that 
turned  their  faces  to  the  morning  sun.  He  had 
seen  the  mighty  works  of  the  Eternal  in  the  moun¬ 
tains  that  lifted  their  hoary  heads  to  the  clouds 
and  in  the  waters  that  rolled  in  solemn  majesty 
upon  the  shingly  beach.  And  when  the  tempest 
rent  the  hills  or  lashed  the  waves  of  the  sea  into 
boisterous  fury,  when  the  thunders  rolled  and  the 


152  Problems  that  Perplex 

lightnings  flamed,  then  to  man’s  heart  the  Eternal 
was  also  the  Awful. 

But  the  majesty  of  the  Most  High  became  over¬ 
whelming  as  man  realised  that  the  Framer  of  the 
universe  was  also  a  Holy  God,  while  man  knew 
himself  to  be  unholy.  He  had  broken  the  Divine 
commands.  It  was  clear  as  day  to  him  that  he  had 
chosen  other  ways  than  those  in  which  God  would 
have  him  walk,  and  so  again  we  note  how  “Con¬ 
science  does  make  cowards  of  us  all.’’  The  old 
story  of  Genesis  makes  this  plain.  With  terror- 
stricken  faces,  man’s  first  parents  hid  themselves 
from  Him  they  had  disobeyed,  and  to  the  divine 
question  Adam  replied,  “I  heard  Thy  voice  in  the 
garden  and  I  hid  myself,  for  I  was  afraid.’’ 

Why  had  man  formerly  enjoying  the  fellowship 
of  his  Maker  thus  altered  his  attitude  to  God? 
What  had  changed  trust  to  dread?  It  is  answered 
in  one  word,  sin.  The  face  of  God  had  been 
clouded  over  not  by  wrath  but  by  grief,  and  that 
cloud  obscured  the  light  of  happiness  in  which  man 
had  delighted.  Thus  from  that  time  on,  the  human 
heart  looked  on  God  as  One  who  was  to  be  feared. 
He  was  powerful;  man  was  weak.  He  was  high 
and  holy;  man  was  of  the  earth,  earthy.  This  feel¬ 
ing  deepened  with  time.  As  man’s  conscience  be¬ 
came  more  enlightened,  he  became  more  conscious  of 
his  shortcomings.  He  saw  more  of  the  gulf  that  lay 
between  what  he  ought  to  be  and  what  he  was,  and 
so  the  record  of  human  life  presents  to  us  that  piti¬ 
able  spectacle :  God  who  is  love  ineffable  regarded 
as  wrath  insatiable. 

If  this  be  a  correct  impression  of  the  human 
state  prior  to  the  advent  of  our  Lord,  it  will 


The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  153 

explain  some  of  the  views  that  still  persist,  yet 
while  we  make  allowance  for  the  error  of  men  who 
lived  before  Christ’s  day,  it  is  passing  strange 
that  the  fuller  light,  instead  of  dispelling  all  mis¬ 
taken  ideas,  seems  to  have  blinded  some  men  by 
its  very  brilliance,  and  instead  of  being  brought 
nearer  to  God,  they  have  felt  that  Christ  had 
to  stand  between  them  and  the  wrath  of  the  offended 
Lawgiver,  receiving  on  His  innocent  head  the  out¬ 
poured  vials  of  wrath. 

Origen  and  Irenseus  had  propounded  a  theory 
that  Christ  had  to  sell  Himself  to  Satan  in  order  to 
effect  man’s  release.  Anselm  had  taught  that  Christ 
paid  the  debt  that  man  owed  to  God.  But  we 
may  pertinently  ask,  was  that  the  view  Christ  took 
of  His  own  sacrifice,  or  was  it  the  construction  the 
Apostles  put  on  it?  It  was  not.  There  was  no 
anger  to  be  appeased  so  that  God  would  be  propi¬ 
tiated.  Paul’s  word  is  decisive.  He  says,  “God 
was  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  to  Himself.” 
Dr.  Stalker  is  but  echoing  the  same  word  when  he 
affirms,  “In  the  Scriptures  the  Atonement  is  always 
represented  as  the  Father’s  work  which  the  Son 
undertakes  at  His  wish.  Likewise,  Jesus  is  equally 
concerned  with  the  Father  in  maintaining  the  in¬ 
tegrity  of  the  divine  character  and  the  honour  of 
the  divine  law.” 

This  is  the  poles  apart  from  the  view  that  some 
of  us  have  heard  from  our  youth  up.  We  ad¬ 
mitted  to  ourselves  that  God  must  be  obeyed,  but 
it  was  obedience  that  men  would  offer  to  a  tyrant, 
knowing  that  a  breach  of  the  command  would  mean 
relentless  punishment.  Instead  of  a  God  of  in¬ 
finite  love  and  unutterable  solicitude  for  man’s  good, 


154 


Problems  that  Perplex 


I  we  have  rather  thought  of  One  somewhat  like  the 
,  pitiless  Nebuchadnezzar  who  ordered  that  if  men 
I  would  not  pay  homage  to  the  golden  image  he  had 
'  set  up,  then  they  should  be  cast  into  a  fiery  furnace. 
'The  pity  of  it  is  that  in  some  quarters  such  ideas 
still  rule,  for  the  cross  is  not  the  proof  of  God’s 
tender  love  for  man,  but  simply  the  means  by  which 
He  is  placated. 

We  come  to  grips  with  the  problem.  Why  did 
Christ  die?  If  there  was  no  awful  anger  to  be 
appeased,  why  was  it  necessary?  Or  if  God  was 
in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  Himself,  what 
becomes  of  some  of  the  theories?  The  fact  is: 


God  is  the  First  to  feel  Man’s  Sinfulness 


In  the  atonement,  Christ  shows  God’s  character, 
which  is  holy  love.  Yet  because  He  is  both  holy 
and  loving.  He  must  hate  sin.  It  is  more  than 
an  offence  against  His  law;  it  is  a  grief  to  His 
heart.  Thus  we  get  a  deeper  idea  of  what  man’s 
transgression  means.  He  cannot  look  on  the  evil 
ways  of  mankind  with  easy  tolerance.  What  we 
thoughtlessly  indulge  or  vainly  excuse  means  heart¬ 
break  to  God.  Yet  there  are  some  who  speak 
lightly  of  Eden’s  temptation  and  fall  as  though  it 
were  a  very  small  thing  after  all,  and  as  though 
it  were  scarcely  fair  that  mankind  should  be  under 
a  curse  simply  because  one  creature  pulled  the  fruit 
from  the  forbidden  tree.  That  is  an  entirely  false 
position.  The  story  of  Eden  puts  before  the  mind 
of  the  race  in  a  most  dramatic  form  the  indisputable 
fact  of  sin.  We  have  all  been  driven  forth  from  the 
Garden  of  Innocence  not  by  the  flaming  sword  of 


The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  155 

a  wrathful  Deity,  but  by  that  of  our  own  conscience, 
for  knowing  a  thing  to  be  wrong  we  yet  did  it.  It 
was  no  accident.  We  did  it  of  set  purpose,  for 
already  moral  responsibility  had  dawned.  “Sin  is 
the  deliberate  and  wilful  act  of  a  free  agent  who 
sees  the  better  and  chooses  the  worse,  and  thereby 
acts  injuriously  to  himself  and  others.  .  .  .  When 
fully  developed  it  involves  moral  suicide.”  So  runs 
the  able  definition  given  by  Sir  Oliver  Lodge.  Man 
had  there  in  the  Genesis  story  a  choice  of  obeying 
God  or  his  own  desires.  He  chose  the  latter  and 
fell.  The  same  choice  confronts  man  in  every  age, 
and  when  he  knowingly  breaks  the  law  of  God,  no 
matter  whether  we  call  it  “a  fall  upwards”  or  not, 
he  has  left  innocence  behind  him. 

This  law  of  God  is  not  merely  a  prohibition 
meant  to  limit  the  freedom  and  happiness  of  His 
children.  It  is  the  safeguard  of  both.  It  is  meant 
to  bring  to  him  the  blessedness  that  God  intended, 
and,  like  the  laws  of  health,  obedience  results  only 
in  good,  while  a  breach  of  those  laws  means  misery 
and  suffering.  No  parent  can  look  on  his  child 
cutting  himself  off  from  the  pure  and  good  without 
concern.  Then  can  the  Heavenly  Father  who  sees 
so  clearly  the  real  nature  of  good  and  evil  look 
passively  on  while  His  offspring  does  the  wrong? 

That  is  not  all.  Every  sin  of  ours  is  not  only 
an  infringement  of  the  law  that  brings  good;  it 
is  a  defiance  of  the  Law-giver.  The  creature  sets 
itself  up  against  the  better  judgment  of  the  Creator. 
The  subject  defies  the  authority  of  the  Sovereign. 
The  child  sets  at  nought  the  counsels  of  its  father 
who  is  not  only  the  all-wise,  but  the  all-good.  Can 
any  king  worthy  of  the  name  allow  rebellion  to  run 


156  Problems  that  Perplex 

its  riotous  course  without  taking  measures  to  sup¬ 
press  the  rebels  and  re-establish  order?  Such  a 
king  would  cease  to  rule.  Can  the  true  father  al¬ 
low  his  son  to  ignore  his  commands  as  though  they 
were  of  no  account?  Such  a  father  would  cease 
to  be  the  custodian  of  his  child’s  happiness.  So,  if 
God  is  the  All-holy  One  and  the  Supreme,  whether 
as  the  world’s  Law-giver  or  the  Father  of  our 
souls,  sin  must  be  checked,  and  the  punishment 
which  accompanies  wrong-doing  must  be  met,  for 
God  being  God,  cannot  be  unmindful  of  man’s  ways. 

This  much  the  Atonement  makes  clear.  God’s 
condemnation  of  human  sin  must  find  expression, 
and  both  that  condemnation  and  the  justice  of  God’s 
demands  must  be  acknowledged  by  the  wrong-doer 
if  he  is  ever  to  find  his  rightful  place  at  the  Father’s 
board.  Yet  God  is  the  perfect  being,  and  being 
more  than  holiness — ^being  holy  love,  to  repeat  Dr. 
Newton  Clarke’s  memorable  phrase — He  must  love 
the  sinner  in  spite  of  his  sin.  Again  we  need  to  be 
on  our  guard  lest  we  interpret  the  divine  character 
according  to  our  own  limited  ideas.  Love  is  not 
the  weak,  mawkish  sentirnent  that  some  novelists 
depict.  It  does  not  mean  the  easy-going  tolerance 
that  an  indulgent  parent  sometimes  shows  to  his 
idolised  and  spoiled  child,  enabling  it  to  do  just  what 
it  pleases,  thus  making  it  a  nuisance  both  to  itself 
and  to  every  one  about  it.  God  is  love,  it  is  true, 
but  His  love  cannot  look  on  man’s  life,  ruined  by 
evil,  without  hating  the  thing  that  has  wrought 
such  havoc  in  the  soul.  It  is  love  that  burns  at 
white  heat.  It  purifies  and  refines  the  good  qualities 
in  character,  but  the  base  it  must  consume.  It  is  the 
divine  counterpart  of  the  incinerators  that  are  found 


The  Froblem  of  the  Atonement  157 

outside  our  big  cities.  They  are  the  safeguards  of 
human  welfare.  All  the  rubbish  and  vile  refuse  is 
brought  thither  that  the  fire  may  do  its  work.  Then 
when  all  that  is  bad  has  been  destroyed  there  is  only 
a  white  ash  remaining,  fair  to  the  eye  and  harmless 
to  the  life. 

So  it  is  God’s  regard  for  the  health  of  the  soul 
that  makes  love’s  fires  burn  so  pitilessly  till  all 
man’s  sins  are  consumed,  but  because  His  love  is 
divine,  while  it  loathes  the  sin  it  must  hold  the  sin¬ 
ner  dear.  We  need  to  recall  this  fact  in  these  days: 
The  motive  of  the  Atonement  is  love,  not  hate. 
As  the  late  Dean  Farrar  used  to  say:  “The  work 
of  the  Atonement,  as  the  work  of  the  blessed  Trin¬ 
ity,  and  as  being  the  result  of  the  love  not  of  the 
wrath  of  God,  ought  to  have  been  a  sufficient  warn¬ 
ing  against  the  hideous  extravagance  of  those 
forensic  statements  of  the  Atonement  which  have 
disgraced  almost  a  thousand  years  of  theology.” 
So  if  love  is  the  mainspring  of  God’s  redemptive 
work,  it  follows  that  He  must  give  His  best  to 
the  object  on  which  His  affection  is  set. 

That  is  true  of  all  love  worthy  of  the  name. 
In  the  case  of  man  and  maid,  love  finds  expression 
in  giving.  It  may  be  only  a  fiower,  a  book,  a 
trifle  that  yet  shows  like  a  straw  the  direction  of 
the  breeze,  but  that  is  followed  by  the  jewelled 
pledge  of  devotion,  costly  as  the  purse  will  permit. 
And  the  devotion  itself — that  is  a  more  costly  thing. 
For  the  sake  of  love,  a  man  will  toil  long  and  la¬ 
boriously  at  desk  or  Fench  through  the  long  hours. 
Love  of  wife  and  weans  will  keep  him  steadily  at 
his  task  when  his  own  inclination  is  to  abandon  it. 
It  will  nerve  him  for  a  sustained  struggle  through 


158  Problems  that  Perplex 

the  years  when  he  feels  that  the  coveted  success, 
of  which  in  the  bright  hours  of  youth  he  fondly 
dreamed,  is  beyond  him.  And  by  the  human  we 
may  in  some  measure  interpret  the  divine.  Love 
that  is  love  must  give  its  best. 

The  same  thing  is  apparent  in  a  mother’s  devo¬ 
tion  to  her  children.  All  through  the  evening  hours 
even  as  through  the  day,  that  heart  is  giving  forth 
its  love.  She  has  been  working  to  make  home  a 
haven  of  rest  for  her  husband,  as  well  as  a  place 
of  glee  for  her  children,  and  when  they  are  quiet 
in  bed,  she  will  take  her  basket  of  mending  and 
with  willing  if  weary  fingers  she  stitches  and  con¬ 
trives  so  that  the  heat  may  not  be  burdensome  or 
the  cold  too  intensely  felt.  But  should  one  of  those 
children  be  sick,  she  will  take  her  place  by  the  bed 
that  she  may  minister  to  the  need  of  her  little  one, 
and  to  the  exacting  duties  of  the  day  she  will  often 
add  the  vigil  of  the  night.  It  is  another  illustration 
of  the  same  law :  love  must  give. 

From  the  fields  of  Flanders  may  be  culled  another 
rare  bloom  that  also  witnesses  to  the  truth.  We 
heard  of  two  fellows  of  the  Camerons  who  had  em 
listed  and  trained  together,  and  who  after  a  stiff 
day  near  Ypres  lay  wounded  in  No  Man’s  Land. 
One  of  them  was  only  slightly  hurt,  but  he  saw 
that  his  friend  was  in  a  more  serious  way.  There 
was  little  chance  of  getting  him  back,  and  the  badly 
wounded  man  asked,  “D’ye  think  they’ll  find  us 
the  nicht,  Jock?”  He  was  referring  to  the  stretcher- 
party.  “  ’A  dinna  ken,  lad,  but  ’A  ken  this  fine — 
you  and  me’ll  stick  thegither.”  Night  had  fallen, 
and  the  teeth  of  the  stricken  lad  were  chattering 


The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  159 

with  the  cold,  so  without  any  more  ado,  his  friend 
rolled  over,  and  taking  off  his  own  great-coat,  he 
spread  it  over  the  other.  Then  they  lay  in  the 
blackness  of  the  night.  The  next  morning  at  day¬ 
break,  the  stretcher-bearers  found  the  two  men  lying 
side  by  side.  One  of  them  had  two  great-coats; 
the  other  had  none.  But  both  of  them  were  dead 
from  exposure.  “Greater  love  .  .  At  least 
love  was  proved  to  be  powerful  enough  to  make 
this  sacrifice,  for  again  we  affirm :  love  must  give. 

Can  we  not  find  a  parallel  between  these  homely 
instances  of  human  affection  and  the  love  of  God? 
Christ  plainly  teaches  us  that  though  there  is  a  span 
as  wide  as  that  which  divides  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  between  the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of 
man,  yet  there  is  a  similarity  that  enables  the  one  to 
interpret  and  understand  something  of  the  other. 
In  a  word,  what  is  true  of  man  at  his  best  is  even 
more  gloriously  true  of  God,  though  the  depths  of 
that  love  none  may  sound.  To  quote  Professor 
Peake  again,  “The  death  of  Christ  could  never  have 
taken  place  had  not  God’s  attitude  to  mankind  been 
one  of  yearning  love.”  God  was  the  first  to  feel 
the  sin  and  sorrow  of  His  children.  Their  rebel¬ 
liousness  like  that  of  Absalom  stabbed  the  Father’s 
heart.  He  saw  how  evil  was  corroding  the  soul, 
defiling  the  garments,  marring  the  divine  likeness, 
and  because  He  so  loved  the  world,  He  gave  His 
only-begotten  Son.  While  the  Son  stooped  to  the 
sorrows  and  sins  of  humanity,  identifying  Himself 
with  the  lost,  it  was  because  the  Father  first  felt 
the  degradation  and  despair  that  had  fallen  upon 
the  souls  He  had  made. 


l6o  Froblems  that  Perplex 

“O  loving  wisdom  of  our  God ! 
When  all  was  sin  and  shame, 
A  second  Adam  to  the  fight 
And  to  the  rescue  came. 

And  that  a  higher  gift  than  grace 
Should  flesh  and  blood  refine, 
God’s  Presence  and  His  very  Self, 
And  Essence  all-divine.” 


God  was  the  First  to  Find  the  way  of 

Reconciliation 

In  the  Atonement,  Christ  lays  bare  the  love  of 
God  for  the  lost.  We  have  pointed  out  what  a 
burden  sin  must  be  to  the  good  Father;  it  had 
turned  man’s  mirth  into  mourning.  It  had  brought 
sorrow  and  gloom  where  there  ought  to  have  been 
sunshine  and  light.  So  because  God  is  holy  love, 
He  cannot  but  take  the  burden  of  His  children’s 
sin  upon  His  heart.  If  He  cares,  then  He  shares, 
and  as  He  was  the  first  to  feel  the  sorrow  of 
separation.  He  was  the  first  to  find  the  way  to  re¬ 
concile  the  world  unto  Himself. 

How  could  man  be  reached?  How  could  it  be 
proved  to  him  that  the  Father  yearned  over  the 
prodigal,  estranged  and  exiled,  and  longed  for  his 
return?  It  could  be  done  only  by  God  bending 
His  back  to  the  burden  of  His  creatures’  sin.  It 
could  be  only  by  personally  identifying  Himself 
with  the  loved  yet  the  lost.  There  is  an  incident  in 
the  history  of  early  missionary  effort  that  makes 
this  plain.  A  missionary  who  went  forth  to  reach 
some  people  in  slavery  found  that  between  himself 
and  them  there  were  almost  insuperable  barriers. 


The  Froblem  of  the  Atonement  i6i 

For  one  thing  he  was  white  like  their  oppressors,  and 
then  they  were  driven  out  so  early  in  the  morning, 
and  came  back  to  their  miserable  hovels  so  late  at 
night,  smarting  with  the  lash  of  their  masters  or 
broken  by  the  toils  of  the  day,  that  they  could  not 
listen  to  his  words  about  the  loving  God.  So  this 
gallant  soul  resolved  on  a  difficult  course.  He  went 
back  to  the  coast.  He  took  his  place  in  the  slave- 
market  and  was  sold  into  captivity  like  the  other 
poor  wretches  who  came  under  the  hammer.  He 
marched  with  them  in  the  dismal  column  that  headed 
for  the  interior.  He  was  driven  forth  with  them 
while  the  dew  was  still  on  the  ground,  and  with 
them  he  toiled  under  the  blistering  sun.  The  cruel 
whip  that  drank  its  fill  of  their  blood  scored  his 
back,  and  at  nightfall  he  was  herded  with  them  in 
their  wretched  quarters.  Then  they  began  to  un¬ 
derstand  him  better,  even  as  he  began  to  understand 
them.  He  was  one  of  them.  When  he  told  them  of 
the  Son  of  God  who  in  even  more  wonderful  fash¬ 
ion  “took  on  Him  the  form  of  a  servant,”  when  he 
told  them  of  the  love  divine  that  went  the  way  of 
the  cross,  then  they  took  in  the  significance  of  the 
message  that  had  cost  him  so  much  to  bring,  and 
that  had  cost  God  even  more. 

Christ  came  to  identify  Himself  with  man  in 
his  need.  He  was  born  of  poor  parents  that  He 
might  be  undivided  from  the  mass  of  mankind 
by  reason  of  His  position  or  possessions.  He  toiled 
for  His  daily  bread.  His  love  drove  Him  into  the 
lowest  haunts  that  He  might  find  the  lowest  of 
the  low;  and  living  the  life  of  the  harassed  and 
troubled.  He  proved  to  them  beyond  doubt  that  He 
was  one  with  them  because  one  of  them.  He  trod 


i62  Problems  that  Perplex 

the  ways  of  life  as  other  men  and  yet  as  no  other 
man  ever  did,  for  while  they  turned  aside  from  the 
right  and  stumbled  in  the  miry  places  that  skirt  life’s 
road,  He  kept  His  garments  undefiled.  The  culmi¬ 
nation  of  that  life  was  the  cross. 

There  was  no  other  way  for  God  to  take.  In 
face  of  the  tragedy  of  man’s  sin  no  matter  what 
it  might  cost,  love  must  seek  to  redeem  the  soul 
from  destruction.  We  know  that  the  purer  the 
heart,  the  more  loathsome  must  sin  appear.  The 
more  loving  the  heart,  the  more  it  feels  for  the 
one  who  has  erred.  It  is  not  the  thoughtless  youths 
sowing  his  wild  oats,  who  realises  most  the  gravity 
of  his  wrong-doing;  it  is  the  father  or  mother  who 
knows  that  defilement  coupled  with  disgust  must 
result,  and  a  bitter  harvest  will  have  to  be  reaped. 
While  God  had  made  man  a  moral  being,  free  to 
choose  evil  or  good,  responsible  for  the  choice  he 
made,  yet  God’s  love  and  pity  must  suffer  with  the 
sinner  in  his  sin.  That  means  paying  the  price. 

Now  that  very  phrase  is  the  battle-ground  of  many 
a  belief.  What  do  we  mean  by  paying  the  price? 
The  common  idea  of  the  Atonement  has  been  that 
God  refused  to  treat  with  sinners  until  they  had 
satisfied  the  demands  of  outraged  justice,  though, 
being  helpless  and  lost,  this  was  precisely  just  what 
they  could  not  do.  So  Jesus  had  to  step  in  to  take 
the  place  of  the  sinner.  He  saw  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar,  and  with  the  consent  of  the  judge,  the  man 
who  had  pleaded  guilty  was  released  while  the  in¬ 
nocent  was  sentenced  to  death.  The  argument  is 
that  this  perfectly  righteous  man  would  do  quite 
well  as  a  victim,  and  the  law  would  then  be  satisfied. 


The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  163 

Some  one  had  to  suffer;  it  did  not  matter  whether  it 
was  the  right  man  or  not.  The  price  must  be  paid! 

Would  that  be  permissible  in  any  court  of  earth’s 
justice?  Decidedly  not.  The  whole  arrangement 
of  our  courts  is  to  guard  against  an  innocent  man 
being  punished  for  the  offence  of  another,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  ensure  that  the  guilty  must  pay 
for  his  wrong-doing.  We  may  take  it  that  it  is  this 
view,  still  held  by  many  outside  our  churches,  that 
makes  a  man  feel  that  God  is  not  strictly  impartial. 
But  we  ask,  if  such  a  procedure  is  beneath  the  level 
of  man’s  sense  of  justice,  can  it  possibly  be  satis¬ 
factory  to  God?  It  is  unthinkable.  Guilt  cannot 
be  transferred  in  that  way  without  doing  violence 
to  the  divinely  implanted  instincts  within  us.  And 
though  it  is  true  that  the  New  Testament  gives  us 
various  types  by  which  the  sacrifice  of  our  Lord  may 
be  understood,  it  is  only  that  such  a  demonstration 
of  infinite  love  and  pity  may  be  the  better  grasped  by 
finite  minds.  The  lamb  might  be  slain,  or  the  sins 
of  the  people  might  be  confessed  over  the  head  of 
the  scapegoat,  but  that  is  an  expression  of  the  soul’s 
guilt,  not  a  transference  of  it. 

If  God  needs  no  appeasing,  if  there  is  no  fierce 
anger  to  remove,  why  then  need  Christ  pay  the 
price?  To  whom  did  He  pay  the  price?  He 
did  not  pay  the  price  to  God:  it  was  God  who  in 
His  Son  was  Himself  paying  the  price  of  man’s 
redemption  rather  than  paying  a  fine  that  he  might 
be  released  from  the  hands  of  justice,  for  if  caring 
is  bearing,  then  bearing  the  burden  means  sharing. 
That  is  where  the  cost  comes  in. 

When  the  shepherd  found  that  one  of  his  sheep 
was  missing,  two  courses  were  open  to  him.  He 


i64  Problems  that  Perplex 

could  either  write  it  off  as  a  loss  that  might  be 
expected  in  sheep-farming  or  if  he  decided  to  go 
after  it,  then  he  must  pay  for  its  recovery.  Pay 
whom?  That  comes  out  in  Christ’s  story.  It  was 
more  than  a  sheep;  it  was  Ms  sheep,  and  so  to  re¬ 
claim  it,  he  leaves  not  only  the  ninety-nine,  but  also 
the  rest  and  quiet  that  the  close  of  the  day  should 
have  brought. 

The  woman  who  lost  the  piece  of  silver  might 
have  let  it  go,  or  she  might  have  waited  until  it 
turned  up,  but  it  meant  more  to  her  than  its  face 
value.  It  was  probably  part  of  her  dowry,  and 
so  she  turned  the  house  inside  out,  moving  the  fur¬ 
niture,  sweeping  in  every  corner  till  the  coin  came 
to  light. 

The  man  whose  son  had  gone  wrong  might  have 
solaced  himself  with  the  thought  that  though  one 
had  proved  undutiful,  he  still  had  another  son 
on  whose  obedience  and  diligence  he  could  count. 
It  was  not  the  father’s  fault  that  the  younger  had 
kicked  over  the  traces.  Every  chance  had  been 
given  to  him.  He  had  been  well  brought  up.  He 
had  been  surrounded  with  good  influences,  and  many 
a  time  the  father  had  counselled  him  that  he  might 
be  spared  some  of  the  bitter  lessons  of  experience. 
But  the  lad  had  regarded  it  as  so  much  “preaching,” 
and  though  his  father  might  mean  well,  he  was 
really,  in  the  young  man’s  estimation,  incompetent 
to  give  advice.  What  did  he  know  of  the  big  world 
outside?  Why,  so  far  back  as  the  son  could  remem¬ 
ber,  his  parent  had  never  been  farther  afield  than 
the  next  town.  Then  what  could  he  know  of  the 
supposed  allurements  and  temptations  on  which  he 
so  fondly  enlarged? 


The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  165 

Such  arguments  have  a  very  familiar  sound. 
Some  of  us  have  used  them  to  silence  the  better 
self  as  it  lodged  its  protest.  We  were  able  to 
take  care  of  ourselves.  We  knew  just  how  far  to 
go  and  when  to  stop.  Alas  I  but  we  went  farther 
than  we  intended,  and  the  far  country  was  not  as 
difficult  to  reach  as  we  imagined. 

There  is  another  phase  of  these  parables  to 
which  we  would  do  well  to  pay  heed.  It  shows 
us  at  once  just  how  redemption  exacts  a  price,  al¬ 
though  in  the  maze  of  theological  terms  we  may 
have  wandered  from  the  humanness  of  God  and  the 
divineness  of  His  sacrificial  love.  We  have  men¬ 
tioned  that  Origen  held  that  Christ  paid  a  ransom 
to  the  devil  that  man  might  be  freed  from  his  do¬ 
minion,  and  that,  in  a  revolt  from  such  a  position, 
Anselm  held  that  the  price  was  paid  to  God.  The 
Reformers,  unwilling  to  accept  either  statement, 
made  the  price  to  be  the  sufferings  of  our  Lord 
which  God  was  willing  to  accept  in  place  of  pun¬ 
ishing  the  sinner.  But  Paul  has  been  overlooked 
in  this :  “God  was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world 
unto  Himself.”  And  the  price  was  not  paid  to 
God,  but  paid  hy  God. 

The  shepherd  returns  from  his  weary  search  upon 
the  hills,  bearing  the  sheep  upoa  his  shoulders. 
The  shepherd  is  glad;  his  sacrifice  has  not  been  in 
vain,  but  it  has  been  real  enough.  As  you  look  into 
his  face,  even  the  satisfaction  there  cannot  banish 
the  fatigue  written  large  upon  it.  He  has  spent 
the  night  scouring  the  crags  and  hollows  of  the  hill¬ 
side,  and  not  only  has  he  added  that  to  the  labours 
of  his  long  day,  but  as  one  looks  at  his  sandals  cut 
and  torn  by  the  sharp  flints,  and  his  legs  and  arms, 


i66  Problems  that  Perplex 

scratched  and  bleeding  where  he  forced  his  way 
through  tangled  paths,  one  begins  to  realise  that  his 
was  no  easy  task.  When  he  had  at  last  located 
the  lost  sheep,  cowering  in  fear  upon  the  rocky 
ledge  to  which  it  had  slipped,  the  shepherd  had 
to  lower  himself  down  to  the  spot,  and  by  almost 
superhuman  efforts  get  the  foolish  animal  back  to 
a  place  of  safety.  So  the  shepherd  paid  the  price. 
To  whom?  To  no  one,  but  in  the  completion  of  his 
work  of  mercy.  He  had  sacrificed  himself. 

The  woman  sought  and  found  her  silver  coin, 
but  she  also  had  paid  the  price.  She  was  glad, 
of  course,  and  very  thankful  to  restore  it  to  its 
place,  for  she  would  have  felt  it  a  lasting  reproach 
to  have  let  it  go,  but  it  meant  moving  every  chest 
and  case,  every  piece  of  furniture  beneath  which  it 
might  have  rolled,  before  she  succeeded  in  her  quest. 
And  when  she  calls  her  friends  and  neighbours  to 
rejoice  with  her  in  the  recovery  of  the  coin,  they 
are  the  first  to  remark  how  tired  she  looks. 

What  of  the  old  father  who  for  so  long  had  been 
waiting  and  watching,  praying  and  planning  for 
the  return  of  the  prodigal?  It  has  meant  some¬ 
thing  to  him.  It  is  only  when  you  see  his  face 
in  repose  that  you  note  how  he  has  aged,  and 
how  the  lines  of  care  have  deepened  on  the  brow. 
His  form  is  not  quite  as  erect  as  it  was.  His  hair 
is  whiter  than  a  few  months  ago  when  the  lad 
left  home.  And  no  one  knew  what  agony  of  soul 
the  long  hours  of  the  night  had  witnessed,  nor 
how  often  unable  to  sleep,  he  had  left  his  apart¬ 
ment  and  mounted  to  the  roof  that  he  might  look 
along  the  track,  just  showing  ghostly  and  grey  in 
the  chill  dawn.  The  friends  who  came  to  the  wel- 


The  Troblem  of  the  Atonement  167 

come-home  feast  had  spoken  of  this  under  their 
breath.  Yes,  it  was  all  very  well  for  the  son  to 
come  back  now  he  had  sown  his  wild  oats,  and  to  be 
feted  in  this  way,  but  he  had  nearly  broken  the 
old  man’s  heart;  his  father  would  never  be  the  same 
again.  The  fact  is,  the  father  had  been  realising 
what  a  tremendously  costly  thing  redemption  is. 
He  too  had  paid  for  his  son’s  recovery.  To  whom 
— to  his  son’s  accusers,  to  his  tempters,  to  the 
devil?  None  of  these  seem  to  satisfy  the  heart. 
Because  he  could  not  help  but  love,  he  could  not  help 
giving  all  he  had — his  prayers,  his  sympathy,  his 
tears.  He  would  have  given  his  own  life  to  save 
the  lad,  for  one  seems  to  hear  his  voice  choked 
with  emotion  echoing  the  words  of  another  father, 
“Would  God  I  had  died  for  thee,  Absalom,  my 
son,  my  son,  Absalom !” 

Of  course,  in  our  modern  way  of  looking  at 
things,  we  may  very  well  ask  if  all  this  was  worth 
while.  After  all,  the  shepherd  might  have  been 
wiser  in  looking  after  the  ninety-nine  and  in  not 
jeopardising  his  own  health  and  life.  One  piece 
of  silver  does  not  seem  worth  so  much  trouble,  and 
the  woman’s  delight  at  its  recovery  seems  out  of 
all  proportion  to  the  value  of  the  coin.  Even  this 
young  fool  who  thought  he  knew  better  than  his 
father  might  have  been  left  to  learn  sense.  He 
might  be  trusted  to  come  back  as  soon  as  he  realised 
what  he  had  left  behind,  so  why  should  the  father 
break  his  heart  over  him?  Was  he  worth  it?  Yet 
that  is  just  our  Lord’s  point.  The  soul  does  not 
seem  worth  it.  Why  should  the  Infinite  Love,  be¬ 
girt  by  pure  beings  who  have  never  sinned,  concern 
itself  above  the  souls  of  men?  Because  God  is  in- 


i68  Frohlems  that  Perplex 

finite  love  He  must.  He  cannot  look  lightly  on 
man’s  sin,  we  repeat,  but  neither  could  He  rest 
content  while  a  son  of  His  heart  companied  with 
the  swine  when  he  was  meant  for  sonship.  The 
situation  had  to  be  met.  God’s  righteousness  de¬ 
manded  that  sin  should  be  condemned  and  forsaken, 
and  that  man  should  endorse  that  condemnation. 
Christ  becoming  identified  with  the  lost  race  offered 
a  sacrifice  that  meant  the  condemnation  of  sin.  In 
His  sufferings  in  life  and  on  the  cross.  He  showed 
what  God  felt  about  sin,  but  He  also  showed  what 
God  felt  about  the  sinner :  that  holy  love  and 
justice  cannot  be  separated  in  the  Divine  nature, 
and  that  what  God  desires  more  than  anything 
else  is  that  sin,  thus  condemned,  should  be  stripped 
of  its  glamour  and  power  of  appeal,  and  that  man 
should  turn  back  to  the  Father  that  reconciliation 
might  be  effected  through  this  one  Mediator. 

“Observe,”  writes  Sir  Oliver  Lodge,  “that  the 
influence  at  work  is  exerted  wholly  on  man.  The 
attitude  of  God  has  changed  no  whit;  there  was 
never  any  hostility  to  be  washed  out  in  blood;  He 
felt  no  wrath  at  the  blind  efforts  of  men  struggling 
in  the  mire  from  bestial  to  human  attributes;  there 
was  nothing  to  appease.  But  there  was  plenty  to 
reveal:  an  infinitude  of  compassion,  an  ideal  of 
righteousness,  the  inevitableness  of  law,  the  power 
of  faith,  a  real  not  a  mechanical  salvation,  no  legal 
quibble,  but  a  deep  eternal  truth.” 

So  the  Son  of  God  became  one  with  the  lost  that 
He  might  be  the  Saviour  of  the  lost.  It  meant 
the  sacrifice  of  Himself,  but  the  price  He  paid  that 
man  might  be  reconciled  to  God  was  the  price  that 
love  must  pay  for  the  highest  good  of  the  beloved, 


The  Troblem  of  the  Atonement  169 

and  because  it  was  the  love  of  God  for  the  sin- 
enslaved,  then  love  made  its  supreme  sacrifice.  In 
the  incarnate  Christ,  God’s  love  is  declared.  He 
must  take  notice  of  man’s  rebellion  and  sin,  for 
these  are  antagonistic  both  to  the  divine  character 
and  to  human  good,  but  in  thus  sacrificing  Himself, 
Christ  condemns  sin  in  the  flesh  and  pays  honour 
to  the  justice  of  God’s  law.  He  does  more  than 
that.  He  lays  bare  the  heart  of  God  Himself;  He 
shows  what  God  is,  and  what  man  was  meant  to 
be,  yea,  what  man  by  grace  may  become.  It  is  not 
only  man  that  suffers  because  of  sin;  it  is  God  who 
suffers  that  He  may  save.  Christina  Rossetti  sings  : 

“Lord,  dost  Thou  care?  .  .  . 

Yea,  for  Thy  gain  and  loss  I  cared  so  much 
It  brought  Me  to  the  cross.” 

So  God  is  not  only  the  first  to  feel  man’s  sin  and 
the  first  to  find  the  way  of  reconciliation,  but 

God  is  the  First  to  Forgive 

In  the  Atonement  Christ  reveals  how  the  divine 
Love  is  victorious.  The  cross  is  the  culmination  of 
God’s  search  for  His  erring  child,  even  as  it  is  proof 
that  love  and  not  anger  is  the  dominant  power  in 
the  divine  nature.  It  is  thus  that  all  opposition  on 
the  part  of  man  may  be  overcome.  You  may  re¬ 
call  the  lines  of  Francis  Thompson,  that  strange 
waif  of  the  world.  In  “The  Hound  of  Heaven,” 
he  tells  of  the  foolish  way  in  which  man  has  tried 
to  elude  God,  and  how  at  last  love  tracks  him  down. 

“I  fled  Him  down  the  nights  and  down  the  days, 

I  fled  Him  down  the  arches  of  the  years; 

I  fled  Him  down  the  labyrinthine  ways 
Of  my  own  mind,  and  in  the  midst  of  tears 


lyo  Problems  that  Perplex 

I  hid  from  Him  ...  I  sped  .  .  . 

From  those  strong  Feet  that  followed,  followed  after. 
But  with  unhurrying  chase 
And  unperturbed  pace, 

Deliberate  speed,  majestic  instancy. 

They  beat — and  a  voice  beat 
More  instant  than  the  Feet — 

‘All  things  betray  thee,  who  betrayest  Me.’  ” 

Now,  strange  though  it  may  seem,  that  is  one  of 
the  first  things  that  has  to  be  done  in  reclaiming 
the  lost:  men  have  to  be  convinced  that  God  seeks 
them.  Sin  has  a  terrible  effect  upon  the  heart.  It 
hardens  it  and  perverts  the  judgment.  So  men 
have  come  to  think  that  God  can  have  only  one  ob¬ 
ject  in  searching  for  them.  It  is  that  His  retrib¬ 
utive  anger  may  flame  out,  and  that  they  may  be 
punished  for  not  only  their  known  breach  of  His 
law,  but  also  for  the  sins  of  Adam.  But  Christ 
overcomes  this  prejudice  by  placing  the  divine  love 
in  a  new  light.  Threats  will  not  make  a  stubborn 
sinner  forsake  his  sin,  but  entreaties  may.  Thus 
love  conquers.  The  Psalmist  uses  a  singular  idea : 
“Thy  gentleness  has  made  me  great,”  and,  in  reality, 
it  is  the  gentleness  of  grace  that  makes  the  vilest 
see  the  extent  of  his  wrong-doing,  and  the  grief  it 
has  brought  to  God’s  heart.  The  cross  focussing 
the  rays  of  redemptive  love  upon  hearts  of  ice, 
melts  them  so  that  the  waters  of  repentance  may 
flow  out,  and  the  healing  waters  of  forgiveness  may 
flow  in  to  cleanse  and  restore. 

Potentially,  all  men  are  forgiven,  though  actually 
they  may  still  be  estranged  from  God.  Any  bar¬ 
riers  that  still  exist  are  all  on  man’s  side,  none  on 
God’s,  for  the  cross  shows  that  Paul  was  indeed 
right :  The  cross  was  first  set  up  not  on  Calvary,  but 


The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  171 

in  the  heart  of  God.  We  may  not  understand  such 
love;  that  does  not  invalidate  the  fact  of  it.  “Cen¬ 
turies  before  Augustine  and  Anselm  speculated,” 
says  Dr.  Fairbairn,  “the  cross  had  proved  itself  to 
be  the  power  and  wisdom  of  God;  and  their  specif 
lations  were  but  attempts  to  find  a  theory  that 
would  explain  the  fact.” 

When  war  was  raging  between  America  and 
Britain,  the  prior  of  a  religious  fraternity  came 
to  General  Washington  to  intercede  for  the  life  of 
a  man  condemned  to  death.  He  had  been  charged 
with  treason  and  found  guilty.  Washington  listened 
to  the  entreaties  of  the  prior  and  then  said,  “The 
state  of  public  affairs  demands  the  severest  measures 
against  traitors  and  spies  or  I  would  gladly  release 
your  friend.”  “My  friend?”  replied  the  prior,  “he 
is  not  my  friend.  The  fact  is,  he  is  the  only  enemy 
I  have,  but  I  have  forgiven  him  that,  and  want  to 
save  him  if  I  can.”  That  is  the  kind  of  forgiveness 
God  has  extended  to  the  race.  “While  we  were 
enemies  we  were  reconciled  to  God  through  the 
death  of  His  Son.”  It  was  God’s  way,  the  only 
way  of  showing  to  man  the  divine  heart  as  it  is, 
man’s  life  as  it  may  be,  and  sin  in  its  deadly  ef¬ 
fects.  Shakespeare  sums  this  up  in  a  pregnant 
passage : 

“Why,  all  the  souls  that  were,  were  forfeit  once ; 

And  He  that  might  the  vantage  best  have  took 

Found  out  the  remedy.” 

The  sinful  life  becomes  impossible  for  the  soul  that 
has  seen  the  grief  of  God  reflected  in  the  face  of 
Jesus.  Sin  has  been  robbed  of  its  most  subtle  power, 
that  of  charm.  For  so  perverted  have  our  minds 


172  Problems  that  Perplex 

become  that  we  have  had  a  feeling  of  admiration 
for  the  man  who  has  “seen  life.”  The  novelist  and 
dramatist  have  frequently  followed  the  same  line, 
making  evil  to  be  a  great  adventure,  and  the  vil¬ 
lain  to  be  a  kind  of  dashing  dare-devil  fellow,  hand¬ 
some  of  face,  and  attractive  in  person.  Looking  on 
that  lonely  Figure,  kneeling  amid  the  fretted  moon¬ 
light  of  the  Garden,  bearing  its  weight  of  the 
world’s  woe  in  solemn  anguish,  these  things  appear 
different.  When  we  see  Him  lifted  on  the  cross, 
a  malefactor  on  either  side,  making  a  spectacle  for 
the  surging  holiday  crowd,  we  cannot  but  feel  that 
if  this  is  God’s  judgment  on  man’s  wrong-doing, 
then  Christ  has  broken  the  spell  of  sin,  and  the  best 
in  man’s  heart  strives  for  mastery. 

Thus  love  is  triumphant.  The  heart  is  opened 
to  the  light  of  the  Father’s  purpose.  The  doors 
of  the  prison  have  been  flung  open  and  the  captive 
is  led  forth  under  the  blue  sky  of  God’s  grace.  His 
eyes  are  blinded  by  the  strong  light,  for  he  has 
long  been  groping  in  his  gloomy  cell.  He  had 
thought  of  God  as  justice  alone,  and  the  ordinary 
conception  of  Justice  is  that  it  ever  confronts  man 
with  bandaged  eyes  and  the  sword  and  scales.  But 
the  eyes  of  God  are  those  of  love.  He  sees  man 
as  he  is;  but  He  sees  also  what  in  Christ  man  can 
become.  The  clay  may  be  common,  but  in  the  hand 
of  the  divine  Potter  it  may  be  shaped  anew  into 
beauty  and  usefulness.  When  the  light  of  love  plays 
upon  the  soul,  then  new  glories  are  awakened,  and 
as  the  evening  sun  may  turn  a  wayside  puddle  into 
gleaming  gold,  or  the  light  of  the  moon  make  that 
reed-bound  lake  look  like  a  mirror  of  silver  set 
in  a  frame  of  bronze,  so  the  radiant  face  of  Christ 


The  Problem  of  the  Atonement  173 

is  reflected  in  the  new  race  to  which  redemption 
gives  birth.  The  cross  is  the  consummation  of  God’s 
love,  the  condemnation  He  utters  on  human  wilful¬ 
ness  and  sin,  and  the  pledge  He  makes  to  man  that 
on  the  divine  side  every  barrier  has  been  razed. 

During  the  fierce  struggle  that  took  place  for 
the  village  of  Monchy  in  France,  the  guns  of  both 
sides  almost  obliterated  the  place,  but  strange  to 
say,  though  houses  and  shops  were  rent  and  torn 
by  bursting  shells,  the  cross  in  the  centre  of  the 
market-place  stood  intact.  When  the  village  at  last 
passed  to  the  Allies,  the  cross  stood  alone,  and 
with  the  utility  that  marks  modern  warfare  it  was 
turned  to  account.  First,  the  name  of  the  place 
was  chalked  on  it,  so  that  those  who  were  directing 
operations  might  know  just  where  they  were.  Then 
an  index-hand  was  chalked  on  one  of  the  extremities, 
pointing  the  road  that  led  to  our  advanced  position. 
While  the  Royal  Engineers,  who  were  laying  a  tele¬ 
phone  line,  carried  their  wire  over  the  arms  of  the 
cross.  At  first  it  may  strike  the  average  mind  that 
there  was  something  of  reverence  lacking  in  such  a 
use  of  a  sacred  emblem.  But  one  has  only  to  think 
for  a  moment  to  see  how  rich  in  suggestiveness  the 
whole  thing  may  be.  That  cross  showed  our  men 
where  they  were.  It  pointed  out  to  them  where  they 
were  to  go.  It  was  made  a  means  of  communication, 
so  that  orders  might  reach  them,  and  messages  from 
their  commander  might  be  transmitted. 

Is  it  not  so  with  the  cross  of  Calvary?  It  has 
revealed  to  the  heart  of  man  where  he  really  is. 
It  has  shown  him  the  way  he  ought  to  go.  But  it 
has  also  been  God’s  means  of  speaking  to  him,  help¬ 
ing  him  to  understand  that  though  his  own  ways 


174  Problems  that  Perplex 

have  been  foolish  and  grave,  the  love  of  God  re¬ 
mains  unchanged,  and  there  is  nothing  at  which 
divine  love  will  stop  in  order  that  it  may  accomplish 
its  object  and  have  the  prodigal  restored  through 
repentance  and  redemption’s  mighty  appeal. 

Here  then  is  the  answer  to  our  question,  a  solu¬ 
tion  to  the  problem.  Why  did  Christ  die?  God  who 
is  the  all-holy  cannot  ignore  the  fact  of  sin — He  is 
the  first  to  feel.  God  who  is  holy-love,  must  show 
love  in  perfection — He  is  the  first  to  find  the  way 
of  reconciliation.  God  whose  love  is  all-conquering 
shows  that  the  cross  is  the  key  that  opens  the  way 
to  a  new  life  of  glad  fellowship — He  is  the  first  to 
forgive.  The  sacrifice  was  offered  that  the  soul 
might  find  expression  for  its  penitence  and  that  the 
just  demands  of  God’s  laws  might  be  honoured. 
The  Saviour  was  manifested  that  in  thus  identifying 
Himself  with  the  race,  the  race  might  identify  itself 
with  Him  as  the  Head  of  a  new  humanity.  The 
reconciliation  was  effected  that  by  faith,  sin’s  power 
might  be  destroyed,  and  the  power  of  grace  might 
fling  open  to  the  world-weary  sons  of  man  the 
Father’s  home  with  its  new  life  of  filial  love  and 
triumphant  trust. 

Then  what  becomes  of  the  Scriptural  references 
to  the  wrath  of  God?  The  fact  of  His  righteous 
indignation  is  not  questioned,  nor  His  anger  mini¬ 
mised,  but  such  wrath  is  directed  against  iniquity 
indulged  in  in  spite  of  His  declared  will,  and  sin  per¬ 
sisted  in  in  defiance  of  His  offers  of  mercy.  It  is 
when  there  is  flagrant  and  wilful  continuance  in 
wrong-doing  that  the  sacrifice  of  His  Son  is  made 
of  none  effect,  and  “because  of  these  things  cometh 
the  wrath  of  God  upon  the  sons  of  disobedience.” 


X 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  PERSONALITY 

VyHAT  is  man?”  The  question  is  an  old  one. 

▼  ^  We  find  it  on  the  lips  of  the  Psalmist,  and 
it  is  echoed  by  the  philosopher  and  the  psychologist. 
The  answers  are  as  varied  as  they  are  inconclusive. 
There  is  something  about  personality  that  baffles 
analysis. 

To  the  ancient  writer  of  Israel,  man,  compared 
with  the  Infinite,  was  infinitesimal.  He  looked  at 
the  magnificent  canopy  of  midnight,  like  a  gorgeous 
vestment  sparkling  with  jewels,  and  even  with  his 
limited  knowledge  of  the  heavens,  it  seemed  almost 
incredible  that  the  Almighty  should  be  concerned 
with  the  frail  creatures  He  had  made.  Yet  some 
glimmering  of  the  divine  glory  imprisoned  in  human 
souls  was  seen,  for  the  Psalmist  goes  on  to  describe 
man  as  but  “a  little  lower  than  the  angels,”  though 
he  himself  may  remain  a  mystery. 

Man’s  divine  origin  and  affinities  need  to  be  re¬ 
affirmed,  for  the  standard  of  values  has  changed. 
The  cynic’s  sneer  as  he  looks  at  the  frailties  and 
foibles  of  the  race  need  not  be  taken  too  seriously. 
His  comment  is,  “Lower  than  the  angels!  Yes,  a 
good  deal  lower — lower  than  the  beasts  that  perish.” 
But  the  materialist  looks  at  man  simply  as  a  wealth- 
producing  machine  to  be  run  at  the  minimum  cost, 
the  maximum  speed,  and  then  discarded.  While 

175 


176  Problems  that  Perplex 

man  himself,  beaten  in  life’s  struggle  or  hemmed  in 
by  circumstances,  feels  himself  to  be  a  helpless  cog 
in  that  machine,  forced  to  revolve  until  worn  out, 
and  then  to  be  flung  on  the  scrap-heap.  Men  are 
asking  the  old  questions  with  a  new  bitterness.  The 
only  answer  seems  to  be :  Man  is  a  mere  pawn  in  the 
game ;  he  is  less  than  the  dust  of  the  balance.  He 
simply  does  not  count. 

Still,  that  is  not  the  Christian  position.  The  Son 
of  Man  put  a  hitherto  unknown  value  upon  the 
individual.  Parable,  precept,  parallel,  ate  alike  em¬ 
ployed  to  demonstrate  the  preciousness  of  man  to 
God.  If  a  sparrow  is  not  beneath  the  divine  notice 
can  a  single  child  of  the  Father  be  forgotten?  If 
the  lilies  are  clothed,  and  the  ravens  fed,  shall  the 
needs  of  the  divine  offspring  go  unsupplied?  So 
from  the  lower  plane  to  the  higher  Christ  proceeds. 
His  life  of  service  and  His  death  of  sacrifice  show 
not  only  what  God  is  to  man,  but  what  man  is  to 
God.  Frail  and  faulty,  defiled  and  degraded,  he  is 
yet  capable  of  much.  He  has  gifts  and  talents  en¬ 
trusted  from  above.  There  are  depths  of  love  and 
heights  of  attainment  made  possible  by  grace.  There 
are  powers  of  thought  and  action  that  puzzle  the 
most  careful  observer  we  have  produced.  Only  God 
fully  comprehends  the  wonder  and  worth  of  the 
creature  made  in  the  divine  image,  for  while  his  lot 
may  be  obscure,  his  powers  relatively  puny,  he  is  still 
God’s  son. 

Though  we  say  that  only  God  can  fully  compre¬ 
hend  man,  that  does  not  debar  man  from  trying  to 
understand  himself.  He  has  been  striving  for  a 
long  time  to  probe  the  mystery  and  solve  the  prob¬ 
lems  of  personality.  He  is  more  than  mortal.  We 


The  Frohlem  of  Personality  177 

all  know  that.  We  may  go  into  an  anatomical 
museum  and  look  upon  a  row  of  glass  jars  con¬ 
taining  all  that  is  mortal  in  man — the  exact  quan¬ 
tities  of  water,  iron,  silica,  and  lime,  that  go  to 
make  up  the  human  body,  yet  we  need  not  be  told 
that  the  man  himself  is  not  there.  When  Crito 
asked  Socrates  how  they  should  bury  him,  he  replied, 
“In  any  way  you  like,  but  you  must  first  get  hold  of 
me,  and  take  care  that  I  do  not  run  away  from  you !” 
The  ancient  philosopher  knew  the  difference  between 
the  tenant  and  the  tenement.  When  we  have  ex¬ 
amined  the  house,  have  drawn  up  fairly  accurate 
plans  of  it  and  know  the  materials  of  which  it  is 
built,  even  when  we  have  some  idea  of  the  habits 
of  the  tenant,  the  man  himself  may  elude  us  and 
remain  largely  unknown.  He  defies  full  analysis. 

Not  altogether  unknown,  however,  for  as  a 
traveller  in  virgin  forests,  intent  on  studying  the 
habits  of  Nature’s  myriad  family,  can  sometimes  get 
near  enough  to  take  a  moving-picture  record  of 
animal,  bird,  or  insect  life,  so  the  psychologist  has 
succeeded  in  laying  hold  of  his  fellow-man,  and  in 
some  degree  unveiling  the  mysterious  workings  of 
the  soul.  One  of  the  most  successful  in  this  quest 
of  the  unknown  in  man  was  William  James,  the 
eminent  professor  of  Harvard  University.  He  pur¬ 
sued  his  studies  and  enquiries  until  he  reached  what 
he  calls,  “the  constituents  of  the  Me.”  These  he 
describes  with  masterly  touch  and  with  wealth  of 
detail  as  “The  Material  Me,  the  Social  Me,  and 
the  Spiritual  Me.” 

“The  Material  Me”  comprises  the  body  we  in¬ 
habit,  and  the  clothes  we  wear,  for  they  indicate 
something  of  the  personality  within.  As  Polonius 


178  Froblems  that  Ferplex 

would  say,  “The  apparel  oft  proclaims  the  man.” 
Then  come  other  possessions  that  are  part  of  our 
very  selves,  much  as  gold  may  be  part  of  the  miser. 
These  include  our  home,  our  family,  our  worldly 
goods  and  adornments,  and  become,  to  use  his  own 
words,  “with  different  degrees  of  intimacy,  parts  of 
our  empirical  selves.” 

“The  Social  Me”  is  a  complex  being  that  recog¬ 
nises  and  is  recognised  by  others.  It  knows  itself 
bound  by  certain  ties  to  the  rest  of  the  race.  It 
desires  the  good  opinion  of  its  fellows,  and  lives  up 
to  or  falls  beneath  certain  standards  of  honour  and 
conduct,  or  is  moved  by  the  requirements  of  its 
environment. 

“The  Spiritual  Me”  is  the  entire  collection  of 
various  states  of  consciousness,  psychic  faculties  and 
dispositions.  Our  capacities  for  sensation,  our  emo¬ 
tions  and  desires,  our  intellectual  processes  and  voli¬ 
tional  decisions  are  all  contained  in  this  “me.” 
“The  very  core  and  nucleus  of  ourself,  as  we  know 
it,”  says  the  Professor,  “the  very  sanctuary  of  our 
life,  is  the  sense  of  activity  which  certain  inner  states 
possess.” 

We  are  thus  led  to  see  how  wondrous  is  man. 
The  problem  of  personality  is  as  enthralling  as  it  is 
difficult.  The  structure  of  the  brain  is  known,  but 
some  of  its  processes  baffle  the  most  brilliant.  The 
laws  that  govern  habit,  attention,  imagination,  and 
the  association  of  ideas,  perception  and  memory, 
are  well  understood,  but  there  are  deeps  of  which 
our  soundings  are  yet  unsatisfactory.  Telepathy, 
thought-transference,  clairvoyance,  are  facts  that 
have  been  demonstrated  but  not  explained.  While 
the  persistence  of  personality  with  which  we  deal  in 


The  Froblem  of  Personality  179 

the  next  chapter,  is  a  problem  of  perennial  interest. 
Just  as  man  is  more  than  body,  so  he  is  more  than 
brain.  Sir  Oliver  Lodge  puts  this  with  much 
cogency.  “Superficially,  nothing  is  easier  than  to 
claim  that  just  as  when  the  brain  is  damaged  the 
memory  fails,  so  when  the  brain  is  destroyed  the 
memory  ceases.  The  reasoning  is  so  plausible  and 
obvious,  so  within  the  reach  of  the  meanest  capacity, 
that  those  who  use  it  against  adversaries  of  any  but 
the  lowest  intelligence  might  surely  assume  that  it 
had  already  occurred  to  them  and  exhibited  its  weak 
point.  The  weak  point  in  the  argument  is  its  tacit 
assumption  that  whatever  is  non-manifest  is  non¬ 
existent;  that  smoothing  out  the  traces  of  guilt  is 
equivalent  to  annihilating  a  crime;  and  that  by  de¬ 
stroying  the  mechanism  of  interaction  between  the 
spiritual  and  the  material  aspects  of  existence  you 
must  necessarily  be  destroying  one  or  other  of  those 
aspects  themselves.  The  brain  is  our  present  organ 
of  thought.  Granted;  but  it  does  not  follow  that 
brain  generates  or  secretes  thought,  that  inspiration 
is  a  physiological  process.  .  .  .  Really  we  know  too 
little  about  the  way  the  brain  thinks,  if  it  can  be 
properly  said  to  think  at  all,  to  be  justified  in  making 
any  such  assertion  as  that.” 

So  far  we  have  been  simply  strolling  along  the 
shore  looking  across  the  vast  expanse  of  waters  that 
lave  the  strand  of  time.  The  ocean  stretches  as  far 
as  eye  can  reach,  here  and  there  dazzlingly  radiant 
in  the  midday  sun;  yonder,  clouded  over  in  patches 
with  ominous  shadows.  How  can  we  use  those 
waters  as  a  means  of  commerce  with  other  souls  like 
the  vessels  that  bear  their  costly  cargoes  from  port 
to  port?  In  plainer  speech,  how  can  we  turn  from 


i8o  Problems  that  Perplex 

the  theoretical  to  the  practical,  and  utilise  the  powers 
of  personality  for  the  highest  ends?  One  phase  of 
the  subject  is  full  of  the  deepest  significance.  We 
refer  to  that  focussing  of  the  individual  life  upon 
other  lives  that  for  want  of  a  better  term  we  call 
influence. 

The  Potent  Power  of  Personality 

Truer  word  was  never  spoken  than  that  of  the 
Apostle  who  said,  “None  of  us  liveth  unto  himself.” 
We  are  all  bound  to  one  another  by  subtle  ties  that 
none  can  break,  for  even  if  we  would,  we  cannot  be 
wholly  unmindful  of  the  sorrows  and  struggles  of 
the  multitudes  about  us,  or  at  any  rate,  of  those  who 
are  linked  to  us  by  the  golden  chains  of  affection. 
We  are  bound  in  one  bundle  of  life.  We  cannot  live 
wholly  unto  ourselves.  The  reason  is  not  far  to 
seek.  It  may  be  summed  up  in  the  one  word  we 
have  used.  Influence.  It  is  a  great,  immeasurable, 
inexplicable  force,  streaming  from  our  personality, 
and  for  good  or  ill  it  affects  all  who  come  within  its 
sweep. 

We  need  not  pause  to  ask  of  what  it  is  made  up. 
It  is  more  than  the  words  we  speak  and  the  tone  we 
employ.  It  is  more  than  the  work  we  do  or  the 
motive  that  moves  us.  It  is  ourself.  It  is  the 
strange  “I”  that  sits  enthroned  in  the  mind,  that 
uses  the  body  as  the  tenant  uses  a  house,  that  looks 
out  of  the  windows  of  the  eye,  speaks  with  the  voice, 
but  expresses  itself  in  a  hundred  more  subtle  ways. 
It  is  the  power  of  personality.  Now  for  the  sake 
of  convenience  let  us  make  a  broad  distinction  be¬ 
tween  two  forms  of  influence.  It  may  be  conscious 


The  Problem  of  Personality  i8l 

or  unconscious.  The  former  is  easily  understood. 
We  have  all  striven  consciously  to  influence  people. 
The  salesman  calls  upon  a  customer  with  his  samples 
of  new  season’s  goods.  But  he  finds  that  either  he 
has  been  forestalled  or  else  his  customer  is  reluctant 
to  place  any  orders.  Then  the  qualities  of  salesman¬ 
ship  are  called  into  play.  He  invites  comparison 
of  his  prices  with  others  or  directs  attention  to  the 
quality  of  the  goods  he  is  offering.  He  appeals  to 
the  man’s  interests,  and  tries  to  show  him  that  if  he 
refuses  to  avail  himself  of  the  opportunity  con¬ 
fronting  him,  then  he  is  missing  a  splendid  chance. 
But  that  is  not  all.  The  eager  representative, 
anxious  to  do  business,  consciously  strives  to  in¬ 
fluence  the  man  before  him,  using  all  the  powers 
he  can  summon  to  overcome  this  opposition  or  reluc¬ 
tance.  And  when  at  last  he  books  an  order,  he 
knows  that  he  has  been  directing  all  the  force  of  his 
personality  upon  the  buyer. 

A  political  contest  is  impending.  There  are  rival 
candidates  in  the  field,  and  they  both  enter  into  the 
struggle  with  all  the  earnestness  they  can  summon. 
Go  with  this  one  who  has  set  out  personally  to 
convince  the  people  that  he  is  their  man.  He  meets 
with  those  who  disagree  with  his  views,  and  mar¬ 
shalling  his  facts,  he  does  his  best  to  overcome  their 
antagonism  with  argument.  There  are  some  who 
will  not  satisfy  him  for  whom  they  will  vote,  or, 
more  probably,  he  finds  that  there  is  a  large  section 
of  the  constituency  that  seems  to  be  smitten  with 
apathy.  It  means  everything  to  him  to  get  returned; 
to  them  it  means  nothing.  They  simply  do  not  mind 
who  is  the  successful  candidate.  So  he  endeavours 
to  awaken  interest.  Again,  he  points  to  the  injus- 


i82  Problems  that  Perplex 

tices  he  has  resolved  to  fight.  He  uses  all  his  powers 
of  persuasion  and  eloquence.  But  behind  all  he  says 
and  does,  his  personality  counts  more  than  anything. 
He  has  consciously  tried  to  influence  their  views  and 
their  votes. 

Every  religious  and  social  reformer  who  has  the 
good  of  the  people  at  heart  provides  further  proof. 
Such  a  one  may  speak  to  them  in  public,  but  he  does 
not  end  his  labours  with  that.  He  enters  the  homes 
he  wants  to  improve,  or  as  Jesus  did,  he  does  his 
utmost  to  get  as  many  points  of  contact  with  them 
as  possible.  He  is  consciously  trying  to  lift  them, 
to  turn  their  minds  to  better  things,  to  awaken  dis¬ 
gust  with  the  actual  and  desire  for  the  ideal.  So  we 
might  go  on  were  there  need.  All  three  instances 
prove  the  power  of  the  personal  touch  of  life  on  life. 
It  is  a  fact  that  needs  no  argument. 

Just  as  there  is  this  conscious  influencing  of  an¬ 
other  life,  there  may  be  the  unconscious.  A  life  may 
be  lifted  to  a  higher  plane  or  the  ways  of  evil  may  be 
the  more  readily  and  complacently  trodden  because 
of  the  power  that  another  may  bring  to  bear  on  it. 
Here  is  first-hand  proof  of  it.  In  a  certain  business 
house  there  was  a  young  man  who  wielded.his  powers 
of  personality  for  the  good  of  the  whole  staff.  He 
was  a  Christian,  but  he  never  spoke  to  any  of  us  of 
the  faith  he  held  dear.  He  simply  lived  it  out  from 
day  to  day.  And  it  was  most  manifest  in  the  insig¬ 
nificant  things.  He  was  invariably  punctual  in  the 
morning.  Whether  the  eyes  of  the  manager  were  on 
him  or  not,  it  did  not  make  any  difference  to  the 
faithfulness  with  which  he  discharged  his  duties; 
there  was  no  acceleration  or  slackening  such  as  often 


The  Froblem  of  Personality  183 

obtains  in  the  average  works  or  office.  He  seemed 
to  move  on  a  higher  plane  than  most  of  us,  and  yet 
he  was  the  most  unassuming  and  approachable  man 
on  the  staff.  He  changed  the  whole  tone  of  that 
place.  How?  Just  by  the  influence  of  his  life. 
And  men  who  never  entered  a  place  of  worship  or 
professed  any  interest  in  religion  were  swift  to  admit 
the  splendid  qualities  of  their  fellow-worker.  He 
left  us  to  study  for  the  ministry,  and  to-day  he  is 
the  pastor  of  a  church  in  the  United  States.  But  one 
wants  to  add  that  few  of  the  advantages  that  come 
along  the  line  of  environment  and  heredity  were  his. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that,  greatly  as  these 
things  count,  he  had  triumphed  over  tremendous 
disabilities,  and  by  sheer  grit  and  determination  he 
had  won  his  rightful  place. 

To  that  man  many  of  us  owed  more  than  we 
could  express,  yet  the  strange  thing  is  that  it  was 
several  years  afterwards  that  he  heard  how  much 
he  had  done  for  his  fellows.  He  was  amazed.  He 
had  no  idea  of  it.  His  influence  had  been  wholly 
unconscious.  What  is  true  of  him  is  true  of  us  all. 
We  cannot  live  among  our  fellow-men  without  the 
effects  of  our  life  making  themselves  felt.  Yet  the 
truth  is  realised  not  by  talking  of  things  in  the 
abstract,  but  by  cleaving  to  the  concrete. 

A  gifted  essayist  says  that  “Scottish  Presbyterian¬ 
ism  in  the  abstract  is  held  by  outsiders  to  be  a  dry 
subject.  Translated  into  the  life  of  a  Jeanie  Deans, 
or  into  the  characters  and  opinions  of  the  worthies 
of  Drumtochty,  its  flavour  is  appreciated  by  every 
palate.”  That  is  pre-eminently  true  of  the  subject 
under  discussion. 


184  Problems  that  Perplex 

The  Permanence  of  this  Power 

The  effects  of  influence  are  permanent.  They  may 
be  used  for  good  or  evil,  but  neutrality  is  impossible. 
■We  are  constantly  making  it  easier  for  others  to  do 
right,  or  harder;  easier  to  tread  the  ways  of  purity 
and  honour,  or  harder.  That  depends  upon  the 
personality  from  which  the  power  streams  forth,  but 
that  our  influence  is  for  good  or  evil  is  indisputable. 
There  is  a  delightful  spot  in  Derbyshire  that  one 
knows  well.  The  river  comes  sweetly  flowing  down 
from  the  hills,  fresh  and  sparkling,  and  it  flows 
through  meadows  where  the  banks  slope  down  car¬ 
peted  with  living  green.  The  trees  gracefully  dip 
their  branches  to  the  waters,  and  the  cattle  stand 
knee  deep  and  lazily  lower  their  heads  to  drink. 
You  follow  the  river  through  smiling  lands  where 
the  flowers  are  fair  and  gay,  and  are  reminded  of 
the  old  word,  “Everything  shall  live  whither  the 
river  cometh.”  But  on  the  other  side  of  the  road 
there  is  water  of  another  kind.  It  filters  through  the 
limestone  rock.  Drip  !  drip  !  drip  !  slowly  and  sadly 
it  falls,  and  it  hardens,  deadens,  petrifies  everything 
on  which  it  is  allowed  to  fall. 

The  one  brings  gladness  and  fertility;  the  other 
brings  hardness  and  death.  So  it  is  with  the  influ¬ 
ence  we  wield,  for  “none  of  us  liveth  unto  himself.” 
iWe  are  making  the  world  better  or  worse  by  our 
presence  in  it.  We  leave  behind  us  flowers  that  will 
rejoice  the  heart  of  the  traveller  by  their  fragrance, 
or  thorns  that  will  pierce  his  feet  and  make  him  less 
able  to  continue  his  quest  for  the  good.  Our  passage 
may  be  a  brief  one,  but  the  effects  of  it  upon  others 
none  can  measure.  Some  time  ago  we  were  sitting 


The  Problem  of  Personality  185 

on  the  shore  of  a  south-coast  resort  looking  idly  over 
the  sea,  when  far  out,  so  that  its  form  could  only 
just  be  discerned,  we  saw  a  destroyer  tearing  along 
under  full  steam.  The  sea  was  like  glass,  but 
within  a  short  time  its  surface  had  been  completely 
changed,  and  great  rollers  were  breaking  at  our  feet. 
They  came  from  that  vessel  that  had  taken  only 
a  few  minutes  to  pass  that  point.  Its  passing  had 
made  itself  felt  for  miles  around.  Or,  to  put  it 
another  way,  you  take  a  stone  and  fling  it  into  the 
waters  of  a  placid  lake.  It  sinks  in  an  instant,  but 
from  the  place  where  it  passed  from  sight  the  circles 
begin  to  widen  and  widen  till  at  last  the  farthest 
marge  of  that  lake  has  been  reached. 

So  it  is  with  the  power  we  wield.  The  young 
prodigal  may  go  into  the  far  country  thinking  he  can 
do  what  he  likes,  but  in  reality  he  is  affecting  the 
lives  of  many  of  whom  he  thinks  nothing.  The  soul, 
on  the  other  hand,  striving  to  follow  the  good,  the 
pure,  the  noble,  is  making  it  more  possible  for  some 
other  to  believe  in  the  worth  of  these  things.  Where 
there  is  life  there  is  influence ;  where  there  is  a  per¬ 
sonality  there  is  power. 

Another  thing  we  shall  do  well  to  note  is,  that 
such  effects  are  almost  irrevocable.  The  wife  and 
children  of  the  criminal  bear  the  stigma  of  his 
wrongdoing  years  after  he  has  completed  his  sen¬ 
tence.  The  mischief  wrought  by  the  young  roue  to 
whom  we  alluded  was  not  undone  when  he  came  back 
seeking  his  father’s  forgiveness.  The  shame  of  his 
evil  ways,  the  disrepute  into  which  he  had  brought 
religion,  were  ever-widening  circles  that  even  his 
penitence  could  not  limit  nor  control. 


i86  Problems  that  Perplex 

“The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them; 

The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones.” 

.Yet,  happily,  that  is  not  always  so.  In  fact,  were 
it  not  presumption  on  our  part  to  contradict  Shake¬ 
speare,  we  might,  while  admitting  the  first  statement, 
challenge  the  second.  The  good  may  be  interred, 
but  its  influence  is  imperishable.  None  can  read 
the  story  of  Shaftesbury’s  life  without  feeling  this. 
Unloved,  uncared  for,  as  a  child  he  was  committed 
to  the  charge  of  his  mother’s  maid,  who,  being  a 
deeply  religious  woman,  yearned  over  the  worse  than 
motherless  boy.  She  taught  him  the  love  of  God 
as  expressed  in  Christ’s  redemptive  work,  and  stor¬ 
ing  his  mind  with  the  truths  of  the  Scriptures,  she  _ 
also  fired  his  soul  with  love  for  the  neglected.  The 
record  of  his  after  life  is  her  memorial,  more  beau¬ 
tiful  than  sculptured  stone  or  costly  mausoleum. 
“She  was  the  best  friend  I  ever  had,”  he  used  to  say, 
and  that  forms  a  more  glowing  and  eloquent  tribute 
to  her  worth  and  her  work  than  the  most  wonderful 
oration  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  Demosthenes. 

Who  can  say  that  the  good  we  attempt  is  buried 
in  the  tomb?  It  cannot  be,  for  its  influence  abides. 
Florence  Nightingale,  braving  the  horrors  of  the 
Crimea,  did  splendid  work  for  the  wounded  and  the 
sick,  but  we  doubt  if  her  work,  valuable  as  it  was, 
was  as  precious  as  her  influence  among  the  men. 

If  it  be  true  that  as  her  shadow  fell  across  their 
pillows  some  of  those  fellows  turned  to  kiss  it, 
then  one  can  well  believe  that  the  undaunted  spirit 
of  that  saintly  woman  no  less  than  her  skill  stirred 
the  love  and  enthusiasm  of  the  men  she  tended. 
Nor  could  it  end  there.  Her  chivalrous  self-sacrifice, 


The  Problem  of  Personality  187 

her  untixing  devotion  to^duty,  have  impelled  and 
nerved  many  another  to  suffer  and  serve  for  the  sake 
af  humanity.  She  has  gone ;  her  influence  abides. 

Henry  Drummond  gives  us  a  most  striking  tribute 
to  the  power  of  Livingstone’s  personality.  He  says, 
“In  the  heart  of  Africa,  among  the  great  lakes,  I 
have  come  across  black  men  and  women  who  remem¬ 
bered  the  only  white  man  they  ever  saw  before — 
David  Livingstone;  and  as  you  cross  his  footsteps 
in  that  dark  continent,  men’s  faces  light  up  as  they 
speak  of  the  kind  Doctor  who  passed  there  years 
ago.  They  could  not  understand  him ;  but  they  felt 
the  love  that  beat  in  his  heart.” 

It  might  have  been  the  same  had  Livingstone 
been  other  than  he  was.  Had  he  been  cruel  and 
unscrupulous  as  some  other  travellers  have  proved, 
had  he  exploited  the  natives,  taking  advantage  of 
their  ignorance,  then  the  effect  of  his  life  would  still 
have  remained,  but  instead  of  being  held  in  honour, 
his  name  would  have  been  spoken  with  a  curse. 
The  effects  of  our  life  upon  others  make  for  good 
or  evil ;  they  lift  up  or  drag  down ;  but  such  power 
as  we  wield  is  permanent.  “Men  are  gathered  to 
their  fathers,”  writes  the  late  Bishop  Creighton, 
“but  their  influence  is  even  stronger  after  they  are 
gone.  Clearer  and  more  distinct  grow  the  linea¬ 
ments  of  a  character  when  the  outward  form  has 
departed.  Louder  speaks  the  voice  that  is  heard 
only  by  the  inward  ear.” 

The  Perfecting  of  the  Power 

What  we  have  said  gives  new  meaning  to  the 
question,  What  is  man?  It  makes  us  feel  that  life 


i88 


Problems  that  Perplex 

is  charged  with  greater  responsibility  than  hitherto 
we  may  have  realised.  No  matter  how  small  our 
talent,  how  lonely  our  lot,  we  have  this  power  in 
continual  use ;  we  can  no  more  escape  it  than  the 
shadow  we  cast  when  walking  in  the  sun.  How 
shall  we  use  it  aright?  We  may  have  doubts  about 
many  things.  The  problems  of  life  and  faith  may 
perplex  us,  but  as  far  as  we  can,  we  must  emulate 
Tennyson’s  friend: 

“He  fought  his  doubts  and  gathered  strength, 

He  would  not  make  his  judgment  blind, 

He  faced  the  spectres  of  the  mind 
And  laid  them :  thus  he  came  at  length 
To  find  a  stronger  faith  his  own.” 


But  about  this  power  with  which  we  are  endowed, 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  We  are  influencing  som.e  one 
every  day.  We  shall  have  to  look  into  the  faces  of 
those  who  have  come  within  the  circle  of  our  lives, 
for  personality  persists — theirs  and  ours.  Such  a 
fact  must  make  us  think. 

We  can  show  others  the  path  of  life  and  help 
them  to  tread  the  dusty  ways  of  duty.  _By  the  very 
way  in  which  we  take  life’s  reverses  and  bear  the 
bludgeonings  of  fate,  we  may  be  of  service  to  some 
other  soul.  We  may  do  by  our  influence  what  we 
can  do  in  no  other  way — neither  by  mouth  or  pen — 
cheer,  inspire  and  strengthen  a  needier  soul.  Sin 
can  be  robbed  of  its  glamour;  sorrow  can  be  robbed 
of  its  sting;  the  ways  of  life  itself  can  be  made  more 
pleasant  and  tolerable  by  the  way  we  use  this  power 
of  personal  influence.  It  is  said  that  Britain  ought 
naturally  to  be  a  land  of  almost  perpetual  snows. 
For  eight  months  in  the  year  the  seas  would  be 


The  Problem  of  Fersonality  189 

frozen  so  that  no  ship  could  either  leave  or  approach 
its  ports.  The  land  itself  would  be  covered  with 
only  the  sturdiest  forms  of  vegetation,  great  wood¬ 
land  tracts  through  which  wild  beasts  would  roam, 
useful  only  for  the  furs  they  would  provide.  Farm¬ 
ing  would  be  impossible,  for  the  land  would  be  under 
the  eternal  snows,  and  the  fruits  of  commerce  no  less 
than  those  of  the  earth  would  be  few  indeed.  What 
is  it  that  has  saved  it  from  such  a  condition?  Thou¬ 
sands  of  miles  away,  beneath  tropical  suns,  starts 
the  Gulf  Stream.  It  has  gathered  to  its  waters  the 
warmth  of  the  sun,  and  through  the  seas  it  makes 
its  way  for  thousands  of  miles.  It  washes  Britain’s 
shores.  It  affects  the  whole  climate  of  those  isles. 
The  severity  of  the  Arctic  winter  is  tempered,  and 
the  skies  that  stretch  above  are  gracious.  The  val¬ 
leys  stand  thick  with  corn.  The  sheep  browse  in 
the  pastures.  Its  ports  are  open  all  the  year  round. 
And  it  is  all  due  to  the  influence  of  the  Gulf  Stream. 

There  is  a  spiritual  counterpart.  The  power  of 
the  Divine  Spirit  will  flow  into  the  life  of  every  one 
wIio~  will  open  his  being  to  the  influences  of  God. 
His  own  life  will  be  changed,  the  very  outlook  and 
atmosphere  of  the  soul  will  be  altered,  and  the  effect 
of  his  life  upon  others  will  be  measured  by  the  power 
that  his  own  personality  has  first  received  from  God. 
Natural  qualities  of  mind  and  heart  are  the  posses¬ 
sion  of  every  man  in  some  degree.  The  effect  of 
thus  realising  that  he  may  retard  or  help  forward 
the  life  of  another  will  make  him  feel  that  he  cannot 
do  without  personal  contact  and  relationship  with 
God. 

What  possibilities  this  opens  up  for  the  humblest 
soul.  If  we  cannot  do  some  great  thing  in  the 


190  Problems  that  Perplex 

world  by  which  we  may  be  remembered  by  men,  If 
we  have  neither  time  nor  ability  to  carve  for  our¬ 
selves  a  niche  in  the  chaste  temple  of  Fame,  we  may 
yet  enable  some  other  soul  to  reach  the  goal;  even 
we,  by  the  power  of  our  life,  may  be  of  service  to 
the  race  and  have  some  share  in  God’s  eternal  pur¬ 
pose.  A  struggling  musician  In  an  obscure  orchestra 
gave  the  world  Rossini.  A  poor  organist  In  Eisen¬ 
ach  prepared  the  way  for  Sebastian  Bach.  The 
humble  Scots  woman,  Margaret  Ogilvie,  so  loved 
literature  and  fostered  a  liking  for  it  In  her  son, 
that  J.  M.  Barrie’s  soul  was  Influenced  In  that  direc¬ 
tion.  Nor  need  we  limit  the  powers  of  personality 
to  those  who  come  after  us,  though  their  minds  may 
be  more  plastic  and  their  wills  more  easily  shaped. 

The  great  power  we  possess  must  be  employed  to 
change  the  atmosphere  of  the  home,  the  business 
house,  the  state,  so  that  “nobler  modes  of  life,  with 
sweeter  manners,  purer  laws,”  may  obtain.  This  is 
finely  shown  In  Jerome’s  magnificent  story  of  “The 
Third  Floor  Back.”  He  describes  the  advent  of  a 
stranger  to  a  third-rate  boarding  house  in  Blooms¬ 
bury,  where  a  lot  of  coarse-minded  people  lived. 
Some  were  manifestly  living  on  their  wits,  and  the 
morals  of  the  party  were  almost  as  bad  as  their 
manners.  The  landlady  herself  was  cunning  and  an 
adept  at  cheating  her  boarders,  while  they  set  them¬ 
selves  out  to  gain  the  advantage  of  her  and  of  each 
other.  But  the  stranger  had  been  there  only  a 
couple  of  months  when  the  whole  tone  of  the  place 
was  altered.  Little  decencies  that  had  been  entirely 
foreign  to  the  daily  life  of  the  establishment  began 
to  manifest  themselves.  The  stranger  treated  these 
people  as  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  the  boarders 


The  Problem  of  Personality  191 

seemed  bent  on  trying  to  live  up  to  his  good  opinion, 
while  two  shady  financiers  suddenly  acquired  a  taste 
for  honesty  that  was  likely  to  cost  them  a  good  deal 
in  the  course  of  the  year.  Our  interest  is  aroused, 
however,  in  a  young  girl  who  was  being  urged  by 
her  parents  to  marry  not  for  love  but  for  money. 
The  man  was  a  retired  bookmaker,  rich,  but  loath¬ 
some,  and  the  girl  was  regarded  by  the  stranger  as 
a  noble-souled  young  woman,  something  midway 
between  Flora  Macdonald  and  Joan  of  Arc.  He 
wished  her  the  joy  of  love — of  a  happy  marriage, 
and  the  girl  winced  at  his  words.  “Love  and 
marriage  are  not  always  the  same  thing,”  she  said. 
“Not  always,”  agreed  the  stranger,  “but  in  your 
case  they  will  be  one.”  She  blurted  out  the  truth; 
she  was  going  to  marry  not  her  lover,  but  this  man 
who  had  money  and  could  give  her  the  things  that 
money  could  buy.  She  wanted  to  shock  her  ques¬ 
tioner,  but  he  looked  into  her  very  soul  as  he  said, 
“You  will  not  marry  him!”  “Who  will  stop  me?” 
she  cried  angrily.  “Your  Better  Self!  There  are 
those  whose  Better  Self  lies  slain  by  their  own  hand 
and  troubles  them  no  more.  But  yours,  my  child, 
you  have  let  it  grow  too  strong;  it  will  ever  be  your 
master.  You  must  obey.  Flee  from  it  and  it  will 
follow  you;  you  cannot  escape  it.  Insult  it  and  it 
will  chastise  you  with  burning  shame  and  stinging 
self-reproach  from  day  to  day.”  The  sternness 
faded  from  the  beautiful  face,  the  tenderness  crept 
back.  “You  will  marry  your  lover.  ^  With  him  you 
will  walk  the  way  of  sunlight  and  of  shadow.”  And 
the  girl,  looking  up  into  the  strong,  calm  face,  knew 
that  the  power  of  resisting  her  Better  Self  had 
passed  away  from  her  for  ever. 


192  I  Problems  that  Perplex 

This  was  the  power  of  personality  in  that  sordid 
boarding-house.  It  will  be  the  same  in  some  degree 
everywhere  where  the  soul  is  open  to  the  light  and 
love  of  God’s  Spirit.  It  comes  through  the  death 
of  the  selfish  life,  the  opening  of  the  soul  to  the 
might  of  the  Master  Personality,  Christ.  It  is  thus 
that  the  world  can  be  made  better.  At  the  same 
time,  the  soul  itself  is  shaped,  manhood  and  woman¬ 
hood  are  moulded  into  fairer  form  and  personality 
is  brought  on  the  way  to  ultimate  perfecting,  which 
is  the  goal  of  redemption.  “Governments,  like 
clocks,”  says  William  Penn,  “go  from  the  motion 
men  give  them.  Let  men  be  good  and  the  govern¬ 
ment  cannot  be  bad;  if  it  be  ill  they  will  cure  it. 
But  if  men  be  bad,  let  the  government  be  ever  so 
good  they  will  warp  and  spoil  it  to  their  turn.” 
Once  let  a  man  realise  that  he  is  worth  so  much  to 
God  and  to  mankind,  and  life  will  become  a  grander 
and  a  nobler  thing,  and  through  the  mists  of  doubt 
that  rise  about  the  human  soul,  one  star  will  shine 
brightly  to  be  his  cheer  and  guide :  his  personality 
can  tell  for  good! 

This  is  but  the  beginning  of  things.  Personality 
persists.  Man  is  immortal.  Life  beyond  the  grave 
shall  be  for  the  redeemed  a  grander  and  more 
glorious  thing  than  ever  the  mind  of  man  has  con¬ 
ceived. 

“Life,  like  a  dome  of  many-coloured  glass, 

Stains  the  white  radiance  of  eternity, 

Until  death  tramples  it  to  fragments.  Die 

If  thou  wouldst  be  with  that  which  thou  dost  seek.” 

The  depths  of  man’s  personality  remain  unplumbed, 
the  wonders  of  his  soul  are  but  faintly  shadowed 


The  Problem  of  Personality  193 

forth,  but  eternity  will  complete  the  work  that  time 
has  begun,  redemption  will  set  the  coping-stone  upon 
the  work  of  creation  to  him  that  believeth. 


.  .  Follow  the  Christ,  the  King. 
Live  pure,  speak  true,  right  wrong  I 
Follow  the  King, 

Else,  wherefore  born?” 


XI 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  IMMORTALITY 

WE  were  standing  on  the  platform  of  a  small 
railroad  station  one  night,  when  the  quiet  was 
broken  by  a  distant  shriek.  A  few  moments  later  an 
express  tore  along  like  a  thing  possessed,  and  was 
swiftly  swallowed  up  in  the  abysmal  gloom  of  the 
tunnel  just  beyond.  The  deep  red  glow  of  the  tail- 
lights  vanished,  and  as  we  looked,  there  was  nothing 
but  the  yawning  tunnel  mouth  from  which  swirled 
eddying  clouds  of  smoke;  nothing  but  that  and — 
silence  !  For  a  moment  the  illusion  was  almost  com¬ 
plete.  It  was  as  though  some  gigantic  monster  had 
swallowed  the  train  and  its  living  freight,  and  there 
it  lay  with  evil  fumes  pouring  from  its  mouth  waiting 
for  other  victims.  Then  we  saw  the  resemblance 
between  that  train  and  man’s  swift  passing  from  the 
seen  to  the  unseen,  from  light  to  darkness,  from 
time  to  eternity.  And  that  black  abyss  became  like 
the  gaping  grave;  the  silence  of  both  was  akin. 

Yet  we  need  not  be  morbid  when  we  turn  to  this 
problem  of  immortality.  In  trying  to  probe  some 
of  its  mystery  it  is  only  that  with  firmer  grip  we 
may  lay  hold  of  the  mighty  hopes  that  make  us  men. 
And  this  notwithstanding  the  statement  of  Mr.  J. 
Arthur  Hill  that  the  question  of  immortality  has 
ceased  to  receive  much  attention.  “It  can  hardly 
be  denied,”  he  says,  “that  though  individual  sur- 

194 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  195 

vival  of  bodily  death  remains  part  of  the  supposed 
belief  of  Christian  churches,  it  has  ceased  to  be  part 
of  the  living  faith  of  the  average  religious  man. 
Clergymen  shy  at  discussing  it;  they  have  no  vital 
belief  in  it  themselves.” 

For  once  this  eminent  writer  is  wrong.  Speaking 
for  ourselves  we  hold  to  the  fact  of  the  immortality 
of  man’s  soul  with  the  utmost  tenacity.  And  when 
he  asserts  that  it  has  ceased  to  be  part  of  the  living 
faith  of  people,  we  have  only  to  remind  him  that  the 
war  changed  that  supposed  indifference.  To-day, 
both  in  the  church  and  outside,  there  is  a  deeper 
interest  in  the  life  beyond  than  ever  before.  The 
fact  that  a  book  like  “Raymond,”  by  Sir  Oliver 
Lodge,  went  through  six  editions  in  two  months, 
coupled  with  the  fact  that  never  *did  Spiritualism, 
crystal-gazing,  and  enquiry  into  the  occult,  have  so 
many  devotees,  proves  the  point.  The  truth  is,  we 
have  been  impelled  to  turn  anew  to  the  hope  of  im¬ 
mortality.  What  is  that  hope  and  on  what  is  it 
based?  What  do  we  know,  or  what  can  we  know  of 
the  soul  when  once  it  has  passed  like  that  express, 
into  the  dark  tunnel  of  death? 

Immortality  is  Universally  Desired  by  the 

Human  Heart 

Though  we  may  admit  that  statement,  is  there 
any  reality  to  satisfy  the  desire,  or  is  it  simply  a 
fond  hope  that  man  cherishes  that  he  is  more  than 
mortal?  There  is  such  a  thing  as  the  wish  being 
father  to  the  thought,  and  we  cannot  help  wondering 
if  that  is  the  case  here.  Far  back  in  the  dim  dawn 
of  history,  man’s  longing  for  a  life  beyond  the  grave 


196  Froblems  that  Perplex 

can  be  traced.  It  is  one  of  the  primitive  instincts 
of  the  race.  Professor  Frazer,  in  the  “Golden 
Bough,”  assures  us  that  every  people  has  its  own 
beliefs  about  the  matter,  and  in  their  religious  rites 
and  their  burial  customs  these  may  be  seen. 

The  Egyptians,  in  common  with  even  more  ancient 
peoples,  had  a  clear  conception  of  life  beyond  the 
vale,  and  in  the  elaborate  tombs  they  built  for  their 
rulers,  tombs  like  the  Pyramids,  as  well  as  in  the 
resting-places  of  lesser  luminaries,  the  evidence  of 
their  belief  in  immortality  is  overwhelming.  The 
bodies  of  the  departed  were  carefully  embalmed  as 
though  the  certainty  of  resurrection  or  of  the  wel¬ 
fare  of  the  soul  depended  on  the  preservation  of 
the  remains,  and  food,  money,  and  weapons  were 
also  placed  with  them  that  the  needs  of  the  soul 
might  be  supplied. 

The  Hindu  philosophy  plainly  taught  the  continu¬ 
ance  of  life,  though  the  idea  is  rather  that  the  soul 
is  merged  in  the  great  ocean  of  being  as  the  raindrop 
is  swallowed  up  in  the  rolling  seas.  While  the 
Greeks,  although  again  they  expressed  the  fact  dif¬ 
ferently,  were  convinced  that  when  the  dread  shears 
severed  the  thread  of  this  life,  the  soul  still  lived 
somewhere  in  the  abode  of  the  shades. 

But  more  interesting  is  the  fact  that,  as  every 
reader  of  the  Old  Testament  knows,  while  the 
Hebrews  dreaded  death  as  an  evil  thing,  they  desired 
immortality  as  the  chief  good,  and  yet,  here  is  a 
fact  that  has  often  been  overlooked:  the  Jewish 
mind,  though  it  had  been  wonderfully  enlightened, 
and  had  grasped  religious  truth  in  a  singular  way, 
had  no  clear  and  definite  doctrine  of  immortality 
such  as  that  which  the  Christian  holds  to-day. 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  197 

*‘Man  goeth  to  his  long  home” — ^that  was  the 
thought  that  obsessed  them.  It  was  certain  that 
life  came  to  an  end,  but  there  their  certainty  ended 
as  the  solid  land  is  seen  to  end  where  the  rocky 
promontory  juts  out  into  the  shimmering  waters  of 
the  sea.  They  had  glimpses  of  the  truth.  The 
Psalmist  says,  “Thou  wilt  not  leave  my  soul  in 
Sheol.”  But  is  that  anything  more  than  a  fond  hope 
that  the  soul  will  live  again?  Their  idea  was  that 
the  dead,  quitting  this  world,  went  down  to  Sheol, 
the  abode  of  the  shades  in  the  underworld,  and 
there,  in  dimness  and  yet  with  inextinguishable  de¬ 
sire,  the  soul  remained  till  somehow  or  some  time 
deliverance  should  come.  No  clear  vision  of  the 
truth  was  theirs. 

Is  the  Christian  any  surer  of  his  ground,  or  have 
we  to  put  his  beliefs  on  the  same  plane  as  these  who 
have  long  since  gone,  or  that  of  the  Red  Indian  with 
his  dream  of  the  happy  hunting-grounds  kept  some¬ 
where  for  faithful  warriors?  The  answer  of  the 
agnostic  is  in  the  affirmative.  The  answer  of  the 
guilty  soul,  like  that  of  Macbeth,  who  dreads  the 
possibility  that  he  may  meet  again  the  man  he  has 
sinned  against,  is  that  this  life  ends  all : 

.  .  Out,  out  brief  candle! 

Life’s  but  a  walking  shadow,  a  poor  player 
That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage, 

And  then  is  heard  no  more.” 

Yet  that  is  not  the  feeling  of  the  universal  heart. 
It  has  its  dread  of  the  unknown,  but  it  also  has 
a  desire  to  pierce  the  veil  that  hangs  shimmering 
with  light  or  gloomy  with  mystery  between  man  and 
his  great  morrow. 

The  oft-related  story  of  Edwin  of  Northumbria 


ig8  Problems  that  Perplex 

is  proof.  Some  Christian  missionaries  stood  in  the 
court  of  the  ancient  king.  The  light  of  the  burning 
torches  illumines  the  faces  of  his  warriors  as  the 
message  is  proclaimed.  And  one  can  almost  feel 
the  thrill  that  passes  through  these  men  as  they  hear 
of  One  who  has  vanquished  the  power  of  death,  and 
rent  asunder  the  veil  of  the  future.  Then  as  the 
story  ends,  an  old  warrior,  whose  face  is  scarred 
with  many  a  conflict,  and  possibly  whose  son  has 
fallen  on  some  sanguinary  field,  speaks.  “Man  is 
like  a  bird  flying  through  yonder  window  into  this 
hall.  It  comes  from  the  darkness  without.  It  tar¬ 
ries  a  brief  space  in  the  light  and  warmth;  and  then 
it  flies  forth  again  into  the  dark  beyond.  Can  this 
new  religion  tell  us  whither  the  soul  goes  when  once 
it  speeds  forth  through  the  window  of  death?” 

The  old  man  speaks  for  us.  That  is  just  the 
point:  Can  Christianity  tell  us  definitely  about  im¬ 
mortality,  or  is  the  idea  that  man  is  more  than 
mortal  merely  a  delusion?  We  can  say  without  hesi¬ 
tation  that  it  is  more  than  a  hope ;  it  is  a  divinely- 
implanted  instinct.  The  soul  rightly  rebels  against 
the  idea  that  death  ends  everything.  In  his  lament 
for  his  friend,  Tennyson  describes  himself  as  waiting 
for  the  coming  of  the  vessel  that  bears  the  loved 
remains  home,  and  he  says  with  heart-haunting 
pathos,  “Is  this  the  end  of  all  my  care?  Is  this  the 
end?”  We  cannot  believe  that  all  the  divine  plans 
end  in  dust  and  ashes,  or  that  man  who  is  the  crown 
of  creation  is  of  no  more  account  than  the  beast  that 
perishes.  His  life’s  flame  is  not  simply  like  a  candle 
in  the  wind,  extinguished  by  the  rude  gusts  of  acci¬ 
dent  or  disease.  He  has  been  loved  and  redeemed 
by  the  sacrifice  of  God  Himself.  So  we  can  surely 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  199 

say  that  this  instinct  has  been  implanted  in  his  heart 
by  his  Eternal  Maker. 

We  admit  that  the  desire  may  be  forgotten  for  a 
time,  that  it  may  be  put  away  in  the  lumber-room 
of  the  soul  till  the  dust  of  indifference  covers  it  from 
sight.  But  some  day  he  will  discover  it  again.  It 
is  always  there.  In  one  of  Ralph  Connor’s  stories 
of  the  West,  he  tells  of  a  young  man,  the  son  of  an 
old  Scots  minister.  He  has  been  living  a  fast  life 
out  there,  far  from  the  restraints  of  home.  And 
after  a  wild  drinking  bout  in  which  he  has  been 
accidentally  shot,  he  lies  waiting  for  the  end  that 
he  knows  is  not  far  off.  The  minister  has  been 
helping  the  lad  to  find  peace,  when,  to  his  surprise, 
Bruce  says,  “I  know  heaven  is  a  good  place — I  be¬ 
lieve  it  all — always  did — talked  rot — you’ll  forgive 
me  that!”  Yes,  in  spite  of  his  evil  ways  and  ap¬ 
parent  atheism,  somewhere  in  the  recesses  of  his  soul 
was  a  belief  in  immortality  and  a  reverence  for  the 
things  against  which  he  had  so  often  spoken.  It  is 
true  of  most  of  us.  Man  holds  that  there  is  more 
than  the  blackness  of  the  tomb  or  submergence  in 
the  dark  river  of  Lethe.  God  set  both  the  hope  and 
the  instinct  there.  And  so,  wistfully  or  woefully,  he 
turns  his  wondering  eyes  to  the  horizon  to  which  he 
presses  on,  guessing  what  is  beyond  the  sunset.  In 
the  plaintive  words  of  Longfellow,  the  whole  argu¬ 
ment  is  concisely  summed  up : 

“That  even  in  savage  bosoms 
There  are  longings,  yearnings,  strivings, 

For  the  good  they  comprehend  not; 

That  the  feeble  hands  and  helpless 
Groping  blindly  in  the  darkness, 

Touch  God’s  right  hand  in  that  darkness.” 


200  Problems  that  Perplex 

In  solemn  yet  silent  witness  to  the  fact  of  man’s 
instinctive  belief  in  the  soul’s  survival,  even  the 
casual  observer  sees  that  in  yon  quiet  churchyard, 
where  the  ivied  tower  keeps  watch  over  the  graves, 
the  lichen-covered  stones  are  set  towards  the  east 
whence  comes  the  dawn  of  day. 


Immortality  is  Demanded  by  Reason 

As  rational  beings,  we  cannot  be  blind  to  the 
incompleteness  of  life  as  we  know  it.  If  this  life 
ended  all,  it  would  be  to  most  of  us  a  mockery  at 
best.  We  form  plans  that  do  not  come  to  fruition. 
The  larger  they  are,  the  worthier  their  purpose, 
the  surer  it  seems  to  be  that  we  shall  never  see  them 
complete.  For  one  thing,  life  is  not  long  enough 
to  accomplish  all  we  wish.  Time  speeds  by  with 
the  winged  feet  of  Mercury,  and  while  we  are  learn¬ 
ing  to  use  our  talents  or  training  our  powers  to 
compass  the  ends  on  which  we  have  set  our  hearts, 
we  find  that  we  are  too  old  to  complete  what  we 
have  well  begun. 

Again,  if  this  were  the  end  of  everything,  the 
experiences  of  life  with  all  the  trying  lessons  that 
we  have  to  learn  would  be  only  refined  torture. 
We  have  to  attend  the  school  of  experience.  It  is 
only  under  the  stern  discipline  of  daily  happenings 
that  some  of  us  learn  anything.  But  if  there  is 
nothing  to  be  gained  from  those  lessons,  if  there  is 
no  meaning  in  the  trials  through  which  we  pass,  and 
no  good  to  compensate  us  for  all  we  have  to 
endure,  then  all  we  have  been  taught  of  the  wisdom 
and  love  of  God  is  another  delusion.  The  heart  at 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  201 

Its  best  can  never  believe  that.  He  loves  His  chil¬ 
dren,  and  there  must  be  some  purpose  in  what  He 
permits.  You  would  never  keep  the  growing  boy 
chained  to  his  desk  if  you  knew  for  certain  that  he 
would  never  pass  his  fifteenth  year  owing  to  some 
serious  physical  defect.  You  would  let  him  read 
any  book  he  liked,  or  roam  fancy  free  under  the 
blue  vault,  culling  the  flowers  of  the  field  or  listen¬ 
ing  to  the  voice  of  Nature  so  that  all  possible  joy 
might  be  his  for  that  brief  span.  But  in  the  ordi¬ 
nary  way  you  take  quite  a  different  course.  In 
spite  of  spirited  protests,  though  his  only  interests 
seem  to  centre  in  the  sports  field  or  in  some  hobby, 
you  persistently  strive  to  keep  him  to  his  work  of 
preparation  for  the  future.  His  future — then  there 
is  one?  In  all  human  probability,  yes.  One  day, 
the  boy  will  be  a  man.  He  will  have  to  take  his 
place  in  the  world’s  arena,  and  it  is  your  fondest 
wish  for  that  boy  that  he  may  be  equipped  and  found 
fitted  to  play  his  part  worthily.  Then  that  is  the 
reason  which  justifies  you  in  making  the  lad  learn 
lessons  he  dislikes  and  in  which  he  sees  very  little 
value. 

What  is  true  of  the  human  parent  is  true  of  God. 
Not  only  would  it  be  an  appalling  waste  of  energy, 
but  positive  cruelty  to  make  men  and  women  battle 
for  years  against  adverse  circumstances  if  there  were 
no  way  out,  and  no  spiritual  benefit  to  be  derived 
from  such  suffering.  It  would  be  unworthy  of  God 
to  set  within  the  heart  a  desire  for  immortal  fellow¬ 
ship  with  the  Divine  if  such  could  never  be  attained; 
and  to  complete  life,  there  must  be  another  world 
for  the  soul  beyond  this. 

But  the  facts  of  life  seem  yet  to  deny  this.  We 


202  Problems  that  Perplex 

think  of  the  “Stickit  Minister”  of  whom  Crockett 
writes.  Feeling  himself  called  to  the  ministry,  he 
set  out  to  gain  a  college  training  that  would  fit  him 
for  his  work.  For  years  he  worked  under  his  tutors, 
grappling  with  profound  subjects  that  made  him  feel 
he  was  being  carried  out  of  his  depth.  At  last,  with 
credit  to  himself  and  to  his  professors,  he  finished 
his  course.  But  alas  !  for  the  frailty  of  human  hopes. 
He  tried  again  and  again  to  find  some  congregation 
to  which  he  might  impart  the  precious  things  his  soul 
cherished.  They  would  have  none  of  him.  All  he 
received  from  any  man  was  that  pity  that  is  galling 
to  any  man  with  a  vestige  of  self-respect.  And  thus 
there  was  an  end  to  his  hopes  if  no  hope  for  his  end. 
Unfitted  for  business,  unsuited  for  commerce  or 
agriculture,  he  was  one  of  the  world’s  misfits,  to  be 
cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void.  We  have  all  felt  as  he 
must  have  done.  We  try  humbly  to  learn  the  lessons 
of  life  set  by  the  invisible  hand  of  the  great  Master. 
But  even  while  we  blunderingly  spell  out  the  long 
words  we  but  partly  understand,  the  shadows  fall, 
the  light  fades,  and  the  darkness  of  death  is  upon  us. 

Life  does  seem  incomplete.  One  heard  of  a  young 
doctor  who  had  carried  all  before  him  in  the  schools, 
and  for  whom  his  friends  foretold  a  great  future. 
But  tending  a  poor  wreck  carried  from  the  streets 
to  one  of  our  hospitals,  that  doctor  contracted  a 
loathsome  disease  from  which  the  man  was  suffering, 
and  while  that  broken  wretch  recovered,  the  gifted 
young  physician  died  in  the  flush  of  his  early  man¬ 
hood.  More  poignant  still  is  the  loss  of  our  gallant 
young  kinsmen.  Why  should  those  young  lives  have 
been  laid  in  swathes  by  the  scythe  of  the  dread 
Reaper?  The  world  is  poorer  for  their  passing, 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  203 

while  many  a  fond  hope  lies  trampled  beneath  the 
heel  of  militarism.  We  loved  them  so  well,  and 
expected  so  much  of  them.  They  were  to  do  more 
for  their  fellows  than  ever  we  had  done.  Some  of 
us  stinted  ourselves  to  give  them  a  good  start,  yea, 
almost  beggared  ourselves  to  give  them  an  education. 
And  now,  all  the  years  of  care  lavished  upon  them 
in  infancy  and  youth,  all  our  prayers,  all  our  love, 
have  gone  for  nothing.  The  aged  who  looked  on 
those  young  arms  as  their  support  when  strength 
should  fail  are  left  desolate.  The  maiden  denied 
her  dream  of  wedded  happiness  Is  doomed  to  per¬ 
petual  regret.  Without  Immortality,  then  there  Is 
no  meaning  In  all  these  things,  except  a  grim  witness 
to  the  Incompleteness  of  life  as  we  know  it. 

The  Inequalities  of  life  afford  another  reason  why 
this  life  should  not  be  all.  It  Is  one  of  the  recurring 
perplexities  that  the  thoughtful  man  meets  that  so 
many  wrongs  are  done  without  any  adequate  justice 
being  meted  out  to  the  wrongdoer.  The  good  are 
compelled  to  suffer,  or  the  innocent  are  grievously 
injured,  and  yet  the  heavens  seem  as  brass  when 
the  divine  justice  is  Invoked,  while  no  punishment 
that  man  can  devise  can  meet  some  of  the  crimes 
perpetrated  by  man’s  inhumanity.  Certainly,  the 
evils  cannot  be  undone. 

If  there  be  no  beyond,  then  who  shall  avenge  the 
wrongs  of  the  dispossessed,  the  aged,  and  those  who 
have  suffered  Injustice?  Reason  demands  that  there 
should  be  some  reparation.  And  yet  at  the  same 
time  It  knows  that  there  can  be  none  for  some. 
Cash  cannot  compensate !  There  are  some  wrongs 
that  no  man  can  right.  The  next  life  must  in  com¬ 
mon  justice  give  what  this  life  can  never  give. 


204  Problems  that  Perplex 

Nor  is  that  all.  There  are  some  to  whom  the 
common  decencies  of  life  seem  denied.  The  forlorn 
and  the  outcast,  the  respectable  poor  and  the 
honestly  struggling,  present  another  phase  of  the 
problem.  And  what  shall  we  say  of  those  who, 
as  far  as  we  can  see,  have  been  denied  a  chance  of 
making  the  best  of  themselves  even  though  they  are 
far  above  the  poverty-line?  You  cannot  dismiss 
difficulties  like  these  with  an  airy  wave  of  the  hand. 
One  knew  a  man  who  might  have  made  his  way  in 
the  musical  profession  had  not  Providence  ordained 
that  he  should  be  the  sole  support  of  a  widowed 
mother  and  an  invalid  sister.  There  was  another 
who  had  fine  ambitions  and  great  ideals,  but  whose 
place  gave  him  little  scope,  for  he  was  penned  behind 
a  counter.  Here  is  a  woman  who  has  yearned  for 
a  home  of  her  own,  but  she  had  to  sacrifice  her  life 
to  nursing  her  aged  father,  and  now,  when  the  load 
is  lifted,  she  is  getting  old.  Her  cheeks  are  faded, 
her  hair  is  streaked  with  grey,  and  the  bloom  of 
youth  has  fled. 

Does  it  seem  quite  fair  that  the  door  of  oppor¬ 
tunity  that  swings  on  well-oiled  hinges  for  some 
should  be  fast-barred  against  others,  if  we  are  all 
God’s  children?  It  is  not  simply  a  question  of 
ability;  it  certainly  is  not  always  a  question  of  char¬ 
acter.  These  are  inequalities  of  life,  which,  like  its 
incompleteness,  make  us  feel  that  in  spite  of  any 
compensations  that  may  come  on  earth,  there  is  still 
a  debit  balance. 

What  both  reason  and  instinct  require  has  been 
provided  by  the  Good  Father,  for  in  Jesus  Christ 
the  race  may  enter  into  eternal  fellowship  with  its 
Maker.  What  was  before  veiled  has  now  been 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  205 

revealed.  The  dividing  curtain  is  rent,  like  that  of 
the  Temple,  from  top  to  bottom,  and  through  faith 
in  Him  the  old  ugly  spectre  of  death  is  vanquished 
and  the  tomb  robbed  of  its  terrors  for  all  time. 

Immortality  is  Demonstrated  by  Jesus  Christ 

Our  Lord’s  life  and  teaching  are  intelligible  to  us 
only  if  man  is  immortal.  He  set  human  life  in  the 
light  of  eternity.  He  interpreted  its  darkest  hap¬ 
penings  by  referring  them  to  their  divine  purpose. 
He  not  only  showed  to  men  in  wonderful  word- 
pictures,  radiant  with  heavenly  colours,  the  kind  of 
life  they  were  meant  to  live,  but  He  assured  them 
that  every  sad  experience  piercing  the  heart  like  an 
arrow  had  its  meaning.  For  who  like  He  takes  the 
dart  from  the  wound  and  with  His  own  lips  sucks 
the  poison  therefrom?  So  men  have  found  a  new 
courage  and  confidence  as  they  live  in  the  light  of 
that  life.  But  He  did  more  than  hint  at  a  life 
beyond  this.  He  told  His  disciples  that  in  fellow¬ 
ship  with  Him  they  should  not  see  death,  but  should 
be  victorious  over  the  grave.  The  aim  of  the  Father 
was  that  they  might  enter  into  a  glorious  life  of 
teaseless  progress  and  unbroken  fellowship  with 
Him,  and  the  gloomy  portals  of  death  would  be  to 
them  only  the  gate  of  a  new  glad  life  beyond.  But 
some  will  say,  granting  this  is  so,  Christ  left  us 
with  many  questions  still  unanswered.  That  is  true. 
There  are  many  things  we  would  have  liked  to  ask 
Him  before  He  was  received  up  out  of  His  disciples’ 
sight.  Why  did  He  not  tell  us  more?  For  two 
reasons.  One  is  that  undue  anticipation  of  the 
future  may  greatly  disturb  the  present.  Were  we 


2o6  Problems  that  Perplex 

constantly  to  dwell  on  the  future  state  of  the  blessed, 
we  might  be  unfitted  to  do  our  part  in  the  life  that 
now  is.  We  once  promised  to  take  a  little  child  to 
the  Zoo.  She  had  long  wanted  to  go,  and  this  was 
to  be  her  birthday  celebration.  But  it  was  some 
weeks  off.  And  as  we  saw  how  the  days  were  being 
counted,  and  how  the  little  mind  was  obsessed  with 
this  one  idea,  we  felt  guilty  of  a  mild  form  of 
cruelty.  Then  we  understood  why  the  Master  did 
not  tell  us  all  there  is  to  know  of  the  life  on  the 
other  side.  He  gave  us  enough  to  assure  us  of  the 
fact,  and  enough  to  kindle  desire  and  arouse  interest. 
This  is  the  other  reason  to  which  we  referred:  He 
reminds  us  that  this  life  is  the  ante-chamber  of  the 
other,  and  that  here  we  are  shaping  character  so 
that  we  may  be  fitted  for  the  fuller  life  to  come. 

We  know  how  zest  and  interest  die  when  once  we 
feel  that  there  is  nothing  more  to  live  for  here.  But 
if  we  realise  that  there  are  yet  loftier  heights  to 
scale,  greater  goals  to  reach,  all  that  is  best  in  us 
responds.  Life  is  stimulated  to  fuller  activity,  and 
the  soul  is  blessed.  With  what  skilful  hand  does  the 
practised  novelist  keep  our  interest  to  the  last  chap¬ 
ter!  Sometimes  we  want  to  read  the  last  chapter 
at  once  to  find  out  how  things  end.  But  we  know- 
that  the  fullest  enjoyment  of  the  story  will  be  ours 
only  as  we  patiently  pass  to  the  conclusion.  Yet  is 
it  not  true  that  we  may  intelligently  anticipate  the 
trend  of  events?  So  it  is  with  the  life  that  runs 
across  the  vale  of  gloom  and  the  river  of  death.  We 
can  deduce  some  facts  that  will  help  us  to  solve 
part  of  the  problem  of  immortality. 

The  Scriptures  have  been  wrested  to  our  hurt. 
Some  of  our  hymns  have  also  led  humanity  astray. 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  207 

They  have  depicted  the  life  immortal  as  something 
other  than  real  life — a  kind  of  trance-like  state  or 
a  dreamless  slumber.  Or,  putting  into  sober  prose 
some  poetic  description  of  the  redeemed,  they  have 
made  that  life  appear  so  unnatural  that  it  is  a 
weariness  to  the  flesh  even  to  contemplate. 

Is  that  the  kind  of  life  that  Christ,  the  Lord  of 
life,  would  hold  out  to  His  friends  as  the  supreme 
goal  of  mankind?  Not  if  His  life  is  any  guide  I 
Life  for  us  here  is  what?  Action,  joyous  personal 
living,  in  fullest  correspondence  with  our  environ¬ 
ment.  It  is  rich  with  loving  intercourse  with  our 
dear  ones,  and  best  of  all,  it  is  crowned  with  the 
smile  of  God  our  Father.  Thus  it  stands  to  reason 
that  if  the  life  to  come  is  truly  life,  it  will  be  as  rich, 
as  personal,  as  full  of  joyous  activity  and  satisfaction 
as  that  which,  under  the  divine  blessing,  we  can 
possibly  know  here. 

There  are  some  questions  that  need  to  be  faced. 
What  of  the  idea  of  sleeping?  Granted  that  Jesus 
spoke  of  the  maiden  as  being  asleep,  when  her  pa¬ 
rents  said  she  was  dead,  that  is  not  an  insuperable 
difficulty.  There  is  a  similarity  between  the  sleep  of 
the  night  and  that  of  death,  especially  when  the 
wearied  close  their  eyes.  Yet  it  is  a  fact  that  we  sleep 
to  wake.  Our  jaded  powers  are  refreshed  as  we  turn 
aside  from  the  toils  of  the  day.  And  when  the 
morning  comes,  as  sure  it  must,  we  shall  open  our 
eyes  in  the  fulness  of  the  divine  day,  just  as  glad 
to  be  alive  then,  in  that  world  of  larger  scope,  as 
we  are  on  a  morning  here  in  Spring.  The  fact  is, 
we  have  little  warrant  for  supposing  that  the  dead 
pass  from  us  into  a  state  of  unconscious  existence. 
That  memorable  day  when  the  dying  thief  on  the 


2o8  Problems  that  Perplex 

cross  looked  into  the  pitying  eyes  of  the  Good 
Master,  his  repentant  heart  was  assured  that,  that 
very  day,  he  would  enter  the  gates  of  Paradise  with 
Him  whom  in  his  heart  he  revered.  “This  day” — 
there  is  no  long,  dreamless  period  there.  Or  take 
that  case  where  the  Sadducees  were  trying  to  entrap 
Jesus  about  the  supposed  woman  with  seven  hus¬ 
bands.  The  whole  point  of  His  reply  is  that  there 
is  no  ghostly  existence  such  as  the  Sadducees  sug¬ 
gested,  but  a  life  free  from  the  shackles  of  the  flesh 
as  well  as  those  of  human  relationships.  Again, 
there  is  His  telling  word  about  God  being  the  God 
not  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living!  Hamlet’s  famous 
philosophy  with  its  fear  of  waking  in  the  other  world 
is  not  to  be  ranked  with  the  plain  teaching  of  Christ 
that  those  who  trust  in  Him  shall  never  see  death. 

But  how  can  there  be  life  and  personal  existence 
if  the  body  be  destroyed,  or  how  can  consciousness 
persist  If  the  mind  is  no  longer  in  existence?  It  Is 
true,  as  Paul  says,  that  “flesh  and  blood  cannot  in¬ 
herit  the  kingdom  of  heaven.”  Yet  he  also  asserts 
that  “if  there  is  a  natural  body  there  is  also  a 
spiritual  body.”  We  are  not  ghostly  spirits  In  the 
new  life,  but  as  just  as  truly  living  as  we  are  here, 
yea  more,  for  all  the  hampering  bonds  of  the  body 
shall  be  cast  aside  at  death.  Paul  was  combating 
the  Gnostic  idea  that  the  body  was  simply  of  no 
account.  This  theory  was  a  dangerous  one  In  that 
day,  for  It  meant  that  some,  by  asceticism  of  the 
severest  type,  were  so  weakening  the  body  that  they 
could  not  possibly  discharge  the  duties  that  life  lays 
on  every  man,  and  on  the  religious  man  most  of  all. 
But  there  were  others  who  plunged  Into  all  manner 
of  vile  abuse,  steeping  the  flesh  In  grossest  sin,  and 


The  Froblem  of  Immortality  209 

pleading  as  their  justification  that  as  the  body  was 
purely  a  temporary  thing,  it  did  not  matter  how  they 
indulged  the  sins  of  the  flesh  so  long  as  they  kept 
the  spirit  pure — as  though  that  were  possible  I 
When  the  Apostle  uses  the  word  “natural”  he  does 
not  mean  that  it  is  a  body  made  of  pseuche,  but 
adapted  to  the  natural  life.  So  when  he  says  there 
is  a  spiritual  body,  he  is  thinking  of  a  body  adapted 
to  the  life  of  the  pneuma — the  spirit.  It  may  be 
that  we  are  here  building  up  a  spiritual  counterpart 
of  our  body.  But  whatever  our  speculations,  we 
have  this  fact  on  which  we  may  rely:  just  as  God 
prepared  a  body  for  our  spirit  for  the  life  here.  He 
will  prepare  a  body  that  will  be  the  medium  through 
which  the  life  of  the  spirit  can  be  expressed  in  the 
life  beyond.  And  though  the  mind  may  be  injured 
by  accident  or  disease,  that  does  not  involve  the 
extinction  of  personality,  though  the  power  of  per¬ 
sonality  may  be  curtailed.  Let  us^make  this  clear  in 
a  simple  analogy.  A  violinist  must  have  an  instru¬ 
ment  through  which  to  express  his  powers.  He  may 
possess  skill  amounting  to  genius,  but  unless  the 
violin  be  available  it  is  as  though  he  had  no  such 
power,  although,  strictly  speaking,  his  talent  exists 
independently  of  the  instrument  itself.  So  it  is  of 
the  soul  of  man.  It  expresses  itself  through  the 
mind,  but  it  is  not  identical  with  the  mind.  And 
though  as  in  the  one  case  you  might  destroy  the 
violin  without  destroying  the  skill  of  the  violinist, 
so  you  might  destroy  the  mind  without  affecting  the 
continuance  of  the  personality. 

Personality  does  persist.  But  will  it  persist  in 
recognisable  form  so  that  we  shall  know  our  dear 
ones  on  the  other  side,  those  whom  we  “have  loved 


210  Problems  that  Perplex 

long  since  and  lost  awhile?”  Undoubtedly!  George 
Macdonald  asks  the  question  with  more  force  than 
elegance,  “Shall  we  be  greater  fools  in  Paradise  than 
we  are  here?”  Of  course  we  shall  know  one 
another.  It  would  not  be  Paradise  unless  we  could 
there  knit  up  some  of  the  ties  that  made  life  here 
so  sweet,  nor  could  that  life  be  perfectly  happy  for 
us  if  we  were  to  roam  the  streets  of  the  New  Jeru¬ 
salem  without  seeing  a  face  we  love.  It  would  be 
like  staying  in  a  boarding-house  where  we  have  to 
be  polite  or  even  friendly  with  people  we  have  never 
seen  before,  while  all  the  time  we  are  “longing  for 
our  ain  folk!”  Yet,  if  the  bodily  form  is  changed, 
how  can  recognition  be  possible?  We  are  not  de¬ 
pendent  wholly  upon  bodily  form  for  recognition 
even  here.  We  recognise  the  footstep  of  a  friend 
as  he  passes  our  window,  or  the  tones  of  his  voice. 
We  know  his  handwriting,  or  even  if  we  hear  one 
of  his  letters  read  without  seeing  the  writing,  there 
is  that  subtle  thing  called  “style”  that  reveals  the 
man  we  know.  But  surely  there  is  something  more 
subtle  still.  One  knew  a  mother  who  went  down  to 
the  wharf  to  welcome  her  son  who  was  returning 
from  America.  He  was  only  a  youth  when  he  went, 
and  some  twenty  years  had  elapsed.  No  photo¬ 
graphs  had  passed  between  them,  for  there  had  been 
some  kind  of  estrangement  for  a  long  time.  But 
all  that  was  over,  and  the  son  was  coming  home. 
Would  they  recognise  one  another?  He  was  now  a 
grown,  bearded  man,  not  the  stripling  who  went 
away.  The  mother  who  had  passed  through  many 
a  trial  was  no  longer  young,  and  the  frosts  of  pre¬ 
mature  age  had  touched  her  hair  with  white.  There 
she  stood  by  the  gangway,  knowing  somehow  that 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  211 

she  would  meet  her  boy.  Incredible  though  it  may 
seem,  the  mother  recognised  a  man  coming  towards 
her.  Was  it  the  walk,  the  build?  ^That  could 
hardly  be.  But  she  knew  him,  and  smiled  as  he 
drew  nearer.  He  went  right  up  to  her  and  greeting 
her  with  that  dear  word.  Mother !  they  embraced. 
“But  how  did  you  know  me?”  she  asked.  “I  don’t 
know,”  came  the  reply,  “unless  it  was  your  smile.” 
It  may  have  been  something  even  more  elusive  than 
the  smile- — that  deep  sympathy  that  binds  two  souls 
together  though  the  ways  of  life  may  widen.  And 
what  if  in  that  new  life  those  bonds  be  stronger 
still?  At  any  rate  identity  is  not  lost,  and  person¬ 
ality  persists  in  spite  of  change.  We  know  that  our 
physical  bodies  are  changing  constantly,  and  that  the 
body  we  inhabit  to-day  is  not  the  one  we  had  a  few 
years  ago.  We  have  had  several  different  soul- 
houses  in  our  lifetime,  and  yet  we  are  the  same. 
The  man  of  ninety  may  weary  you  by  his  narrative 
of  what  he  did  when  he  was  a  boy.  But  he  will 
impress  you  with  the  fact  that  he  is  conscious  of 
himself  as  the  same  living  personality.  We  can 
recall  things  that  happened  to  us  twenty  or  thirty 
years  ago,  and  we  know  that  we  and  no  one  else 
were  the  persons  affected.  To  bring  it  still  nearer, 
sometimes,  weary  with  our  work,  we  lay  it  aside  at 
night  and  take  it  up  again  in  the  morning  just  where 
we  left  off  although  we  have  slept  in  the  interval. 
So  we  will  lay  down  our  life-work  in  the  evening  of 
death  and  wake  to  take  it  up  next  morning  in  the 
Beyond — and  yet  we  shall  be  the  same  men  and 
women.  If  personality  persists,  and  identity  is  re¬ 
tained,  recognition  is  certain. 

Then  if  we  are  still  the  same,  what  change  can 


212  ■  I^roblems  that  Perplex 

there  be  ?  The  same  answer  holds  good :  we  change 
with  the  years,  yet  we  are  still  the  same  persons. 
And  when  the  soul  passes  at  death  from  the  ante¬ 
chamber  of  earth  to  the  presence  of  the  King,  it  is 
through  the  redeeming  grace  of  Christ  that  the  work 
will  be  completed.  The  great  heroes  of  faith,  who 
have  served  their  day  and  generation,  may  leave 
behind  them  gaps  which  it  is  difficult  to  fill,  while 
our  loved  ones  who  have  been  taken  from  us  make 
the  sense  of  loss  even  more  acute,  but  they  are  not 
dead.  Their  battle  is  over  and  the  meed  of  the 
conqueror  is  theirs.  They  have  been  called  to  fuller 
service  in  the  presence  of  their  King.  And  their 
passing  from  the  home  on  earth  to  the  Father’s 
House  is  not  a  passing  to  darkness  and  gloom,  nor 
even  to  a  sleep  of  tranquil  dreamlessness.  Home 
connotes  more  than  that.  It  means  love,  and  life, 
and  light.  Recall  the  famous  old  war  song  of  the 
American  Republic.  The  words  may  be  gruesome, 
but  their  significance  is  glorious : 

“John  Brown’s  body  lies  a-moulding  in  the  grave, 

But  his  soul  goes  marching  on ! 

Glory !  Glory !  Halleluj  ah !” 

So  It  is  with  the  souls  of  the  righteous  who  die 
in  Christ.  They  see  the  King  In  His  beauty,  and 
they  see  Him  now!  There  Is  no  weary  waiting  In 
the  Place  of  Shades.  There  Is  no  desolate  wandering 
in  Sheol.  If  Christ’s  word  is  to  be  trusted — and  It 
is ! — then  His  word  of  comfort  to  the  dying  male¬ 
factor  at  His  side,  the  act  of  repentance  carrying 
his  sins  away  as  the  winds  take  the  ripe  leaves  of 
Autumn  from  the  branches,  Is  a  word  of  comfort  to 
every  enquiring  soul,  “This  day  thou  shalt  be  with 


The  Problem  of  Immortality  213 

Me  in  Paradise.”  You  will  find  correct  theology  as 
well  as  an  inspiring  thought  on  that  old  monument 
in  St.  Paul’s  Cathedral,  in  London,  “Through  the 
gates  of  death  we  pass  to  our  joyful  resurrection.” 
And  the  simple  lay  of  Whittier  falls  on  the  arid  soul 
like  dew  upon  the  parched  soil: 

“That  death  seems  but  a  covered  way 
Which  opens  into  light, 

Wherein  no  blinded  child  can  stray 
Beyond  the  Father’s  sight.” 

How  this  grips  the  soul!  We  have  our  dear  fore¬ 
runners  who,  like  Joshua  and  Caleb  of  old,  have 
gone  before  us  to  spy  out  the  land.  And  shall  we 
disappoint  them,  as  they  look  for  the  re-union  with 
those  they  have  loved  on  earth?  Never!  Let  us 
live  by  faith  in  Christ  who  alone  throws  open  the 
portal  of  life,  so  that  we  too  may  one  day  stand  in 
His  presence,  redeemed  and  complete.  Yea,  set  this 
hope  before  you  that  it  may  blaze  like  a  star  in  the 
darkest  night,  so  that  when  the  call  comes  for  us, 
we  too,  with  joyous  feet  like  the  Wise  Men  of  old, 
may  be  guided  into  the  presence  of  Him  whom  to 
know  is  life  eternal. 


THE  END 


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